


Now Cracks A Noble Heart

by Tari_Sue



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Arthur Pendragon/Ethan (Merlin), Blood, Detectives, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Murder, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Relationship(s), Police Officer Merlin, Pre-Slash, Stabbing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-04
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-18 23:52:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4724900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tari_Sue/pseuds/Tari_Sue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When called out to a disturbance, PC Merlin Emrys does not expect to find a dead body and a madman waving a bloody sword at him. He also does not expect the sudden promotion, or to jeopardise said promotion by trying to prove the madman’s innocence. He definitely does not expect to find himself falling in love with the madman, one damaged Arthur Pendragon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fingerprintbruises](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fingerprintbruises/gifts).
  * Inspired by [ART: Now Cracks a Noble Heart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4724576) by [fingerprintbruises](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fingerprintbruises/pseuds/fingerprintbruises). 



> Underage, non-con, abuse and murder are themes of this work, although all are in the past and nothing graphic occurs in the actual fic. These themes are integral to the plot and not intended to be glamorised in any way.
> 
> Obviously, I do not own Merlin, if I did he would spend all day in my bed.
> 
> This is a pinch hit, so it is rather rushed and considerably less researched than I might have liked, therefore apologies in advance for all the errors I’m sure are there. Thank you so much to bend_me_baby/fingerprintbruises for the fabulous art and, of course, the original idea! You are fabulous; thank you for being so patient with me. I don’t really consider myself to be a writer, but the original art was too good to leave on the shelf. 
> 
> Also a million thank yous to vixs_spes for the last-minute beta, I wouldn’t have been able to post this without you. 
> 
> And lastly, thanks to the Merlin Chatzy crew, for listening to me whine about not getting this finished in time and for all the encouragement – especially to Versaphile for the wonderful Leon backstory that mostly didn’t make it into the fic but is now my personal headcanon for modern au Leon. 
> 
> Oh, and thanks to Bill Shakespeare for the quote I pinched for the title, it’s from Hamlet – _Now cracks a noble heart, goodnight, sweet prince, and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest_

‘Disturbance at a private property’, the switchboard had said. “Caller rang off.”

As it happened, Merlin and Freya were already in the neighbourhood, having been called out about a stolen car. Of course, in a less posh neighbourhood than Camelot, they probably wouldn’t have been sent to the house anyway. Still, two call-outs in one night to somewhere where disturbances hardly ever happened had to be some sort of record. 

The house was large. Not mansion large or anything, but large all the same – one of the big semi-detached houses on the leafy avenues away from the main road. It had a driveway and a wall and a garden. 

The front door was open and there was a light on inside and he could hear a washing machine running in the background. There were no signs or sounds of any disturbance.

“Hello?” he called, stepping over the threshold. “This is the police.”

The hallway inside was those smart black and white tiles like Merlin’s Mum liked. Inside was fairly tidy except for a few shoes, coats, bags, and muddy boots just inside the door. 

And the footprint, of course.

There was a bloody footprint on the smart black and white tiles coming out of a door to the left. Merlin whispered to Freya to call for backup and moved silently forward, brushing off Freya’s hand as she tried to stop him. He took out his truncheon. Not that it would do him a lot of good if there was an armed madman inside.

He caught the movement out of the corner of his eye. 

A tall man with blond hair rose up from the floor, brandishing what looked for all the world like a broadsword. There was blood, glistening on the sword. Blood everywhere, actually. A body covered in blood lying face-up half across the once-white sofa. He didn’t look like he’d be getting up.

“Sir, put the weapon down,” Merlin said, trying to keep his voice steady. For once he wished he had a gun, or at least some weaponry other than the flimsy baton in his hand.

The man had a wild look in his eyes which, combined with the blood on his cheek and down what looked, even to Merlin’s untrained eye, like an expensive suit, made him look like an escaped lunatic from a horror film. Especially with the sword, “Who are you?” the lunatic rasped out.

Behind him, Merlin heard Freya gasp and then heard the click of her radio as she updated control on the situation.

“We are police officers. We have the house surrounded.” Well, it would be true soon enough, hopefully. “Put the weapon on the ground, please sir.”

The man looked at him properly for the first time, a look of confusion crossing his face.

“He’s dead…” the man said. The sword wavered precariously in his hands.

To be honest, Merlin thought it was pretty obvious that the guy was dead – what with the big hole through his chest and and all the blood and everything. Not that he was going to get close enough to actually check for a pulse, he didn’t want to end up the same way.

“Shit, is that the bloke of the telly?” he heard Freya whisper. “My mum loves him!”

Merlin looked between the corpse and the man in front of him, unsure which of them Freya meant.

“What’s your name, mate?” he asked.

“I’m not your mate.” The man turned his face towards Merlin, sky-blue eyes piercing him. “Are you looking for him?”

“Looking for who? Look, can you please put the sword down?” Merlin asked. 

“He’s dead…” the man said again. “Please tell me you found him.”

“Whose house is this?” Merlin tried.

“Mine.”

“And you are?”

“Arthur Pendragon.” The tone of his voice added an ‘of course’ to the statement, suggesting anyone should have known that.

“And do you know who this is?” Merlin indicated the victim.

“Ethan.”

“Oh my god, it really is Ethan Daniels, isn’t it?” Freya said, no longer bothering to whisper.

Arthur nodded.

“I knew it!” Freya said. “He does that programme in the mornings, the one with the ditzy blonde.”

“Arthur?” Merlin said, trying to project an air of calm. “Can you tell us what happened?”

“I just… I came home… he was just…” Arthur’s eyes had drifted back over to Ethan’s body. “I… he’s dead…”

“Yes, I think we established that. Did you argue?”

“What? No. I… I don’t know… I…” Arthur’s eyes landed on the bloody sword in his hand. “Is Isobelle alright?” He moved his left hand down the blade.

“Who’s Isobelle? Is there someone else in the house?” Merlin tried to ignore the blood on the sword.

“My sword,” Arthur replied with a frown. “She shouldn’t have been used for something like this. I need to clean her.”

“No! Wait, that’s evidence!” Merlin said. He took a step towards Arthur before deciding better of it.

“The sword?” Freya said, incredulous. “There is a dead man lying on your settee and you are worried he might have dented your sword? What the fuck?”

Arthur’s eyes locked back onto Ethan before he closed them tightly. “This can’t be happening. Please, this can’t…”

“THIS IS THE POLICE!” a voice shouted from outside. 

“In here!” Merlin called back, breathing a sigh of relief. Thank fuck, backup. 

The room was suddenly filled with more police with guns. 

“PUT THE WEAPON DOWN!” 

The armed police moved into position. “Wait!” Merlin cried, moving forward.

“Merlin!” Freya hissed at him.

“Wait,” he said to the gunmen again. “Arthur, just put the sword down, please.” Merlin motioned laying something down on the floor. 

Arthur frowned at Merlin and then at the sword before, out of the blue, he started laughing in a way that sounded almost hysterical. “He’s dead,” he said to Merlin. The manic look in Arthur’s eyes had intensified. “He’s dead!” He looked back at the body then turned to the side and promptly threw up.

In what was probably the most stupid move of his life, Merlin moved over to Arthur and quickly took the sword from him, ignoring a strangled gasp from Freya. Arthur made no move to stop him, the sword leaving his now limp fingers with ease. On some weird instinct, Merlin found himself placing a hand on Arthur’s back in a gesture of comfort.

In a sudden flurry of activity, several officers had Arthur tackled to the ground and handcuffed before Merlin could blink. 

“What the hell did you think you were doing?” a senior officer, DI Thompson, or Thomas or something like that, from CID, yelled at Merlin as he surveyed the scene. “You could have ended up like _him_!” He indicated the corpse.

“Arthur was confused, I think he’s in shock,” Merlin said. “If he was going to hurt me he’d have done it already.” 

“That, _constable_ , was not your call to make! And what in the name of bloody hell were you two idiots doing, coming in here without backup?” 

“We didn’t know what happened!” Freya said. “The call-in said disturbance!”

“You!” the inspector called to another officer. “Get SOCOs in here, now! Nobody else is to come any further into the house till forensics get here. Someone take this piece of scum down to the station. You two, come with me.” He glared at Merlin and Freya. “Let’s hope you haven’t fucked up the crime scene.”


	2. Chapter 2

Merlin wasn’t like his friend Will, who had joined purely for the uniform in the belief it would attract girls. Merlin had never been interested in that. In the uniform thing, that is. Well, he wasn’t interested the girls either, not in that way, but that wasn’t the point. Proper detective work was what Merlin had joined the police for.

Getting yelled at by a senior CID detective in front of the whole station, before he’d even mainlined sweet tea, did not seem like a very good way of ditching the uniform and making detective any time soon. Detective Inspector ‘call me Elyan’ Thomas had actually apologised for telling them off at the crime scene and said that Merlin had done a good job of ‘diffusing the situation’ – apparently his boss did not share that opinion.

Merlin was probably going to get stuck being a glorified traffic warden for the rest of his life instead. Detective Chief Inspector Slater’s reputation as a terrifying harridan witch from hell did not do her justice – she was so much worse than that. 

Slater had yelled at Freya too, but things like that never seemed to bother Freya like they did Merlin. She seemed all sweet and vulnerable, but Freya was one of the toughest people Merlin had ever met. And anyway, Merlin got yelled at _more_. Merlin had been stupid enough to walk up to the maniac with the sword.

Still, fucking up and getting a bollocking from a senior officer was one thing, what really rattled Merlin was getting a summons to the Chief Constable’s office. For the whole time Merlin had been on the force, he’d managed to avoid the old man. He was pretty sure he was about to get fired. He wasn’t even supposed to be in yet, but he’d been called in early just for this.

Chief Constable Drake, known to the entire police force of England and Wales as El Draco, had a reputation that made DCI Nimueh Slater seem like a pussy cat. To make matters worse, Freya seemed to have dodged this bullet. Not that Merlin wanted his friend to get sacked too, but misery loves company.

He took a deep breath, straightened his uniform, attempted to flatten his hair and knocked on the door.

“Enter.”

The Dragon’s Den turned out to not be nearly as terrifying as Merlin had expected. Rather than a cave full of gold with a massive fire-breathing dragon there was simply a desk and a chair and a rather diminutive, although quite possibly fire-breathing, man. 

Said man did not look up as Merlin came to stand before him. He simply carried on writing as though Merlin were beneath his contempt.

Merlin wasn’t sure what to do. He was pretty sure Drake had told him to come in… should he perhaps clear his throat or something, make the man aware of his presence? Or would that just infuriate him? If Merlin just stood there in silence, would he be berated for _not_ saying anything? 

What would someone else do, someone less awkward? Freya would have marched up to the desk and announced her presence by saying, ‘you wanted to see me, sir?’ or some such thing. If Merlin had wanted to try that tact, he really should have started with it, rather than standing here sweating. 

Will would have thrown himself into the chair opposite Drake and started messing with the little clacking ball thing on the desk. But then, Will would probably have got himself fired. Then again, Merlin was probably about to be fired anyway, and he’d always wanted to fiddle with one of those little clacky ball things. He liked fiddling with balls… no, Merlin, don’t start laughing at your own lame joke now.

Lance would stand there, stoically waiting to be acknowledged. Perhaps, as Lance was the only one of his friends who had actually made it past plain old Police Constable, he should do what Lance would do. That should be his motto, rather than what would Jesus do, what would Lancelot do? Well that was easy, Lance wouldn’t have found himself in this situation to begin with.

Feeling the heat of El Draco’s eyes burning into him, Merlin tore his gaze away from the executive toy on the desk and looked up to find the Chief Constable staring at him. Quickly he straightened up and stopped chewing on his bottom lip. Drake gave a small sigh and an almost imperceptible shake of his head almost exactly like Merlin’s mum always gave when she realised that Merlin hadn’t been paying attention.

“Um… you wanted to see me?” Merlin asked before belatedly tacking, “Sir,” on the end.

“I heard about your little stunt last night.” Drake’s voice sounded like rustling paper. There were rumours that he was so old he’d been in the original Bow Street Runners. Merlin could definitely see that.

“Um…” Merlin replied intelligently.

“Tell me, PC Emrys, in what part of your basic training did they tell you it was a good idea to stand between a police marksman and a man waving a broadsword around?”

“I, er…” Merlin said.

“Perhaps, unlike the rest of us, you are secretly immortal? Bullets and blades cannot harm you?”

“No, I…”

“Or perhaps you are simply rather stupid?”

“I…” Merlin was not going to be intimidated, he was grown man, thank you very much. “I thought I was getting through to him before everyone else came in. He was acting strange.”

“Acting strange? Do tell me, PC Emrys, in your infinite experience and wisdom, what is a strange way to act for a man who may or may not have just stabbed his lover to death?”

“His lover?”

“Hmm.” Drake frowned. “I’d rather hoped you’d be more observant.”

“I…” 

“DI Thomas informs me that you established a connection with the suspect.”

“I just… I think he wasn’t quite right in the head. He didn’t really seem to know what was going on around him.”

El Draco steepled his fingers and gazed over them at Merlin for what seemed like an inordinately long time.

Merlin shifted uncomfortably.

“I’d like you to join CID until this case is solved,” Drake said eventually.

“What?” Merlin felt somewhat wrong footed. He could not possibly have heard that right.

“It is just on a temporary basis, We will review your situation after that.”

“You’re not firing me?”

“Did you want me to?”

“No!”

“That will be all, Detective Constable.”

Merlin was so eager to beat a hasty retreat that it took him to the end of the corridor to register the new rank.

 

 

Freya was waiting for him when he got back downstairs. He suspected she’d come in early too just for moral support.

“Well? What happened?” She rushed over to him. “Did he fire you?”

“Um, I think I just got promoted.” Merlin said, still feeling a little stunned. “Temporarily at least.”

“Huh?” Freya said.

“Do you know if El Draco is the sort of man to play practical jokes on poor unsuspecting police constables he is about to fire by pretending to promote them to CID?”

“I very much doubt it!” She appeared to think for a moment. “Then again…”

“He’s put me on the investigation team. It’s only temporary, but still.” He shrugged.

“Sonofabitch! Merlin that’s brilliant!” Freya squealed, hurting Merlin’s ear drums.”

“What’s happened?” Sgt Valiant asked, coming over to see what the noise was about.

“Never mind, Alan,” Freya said, rolling her eyes at him.

“You can’t talk to me like that! I’m your superior!” Valiant’s face started to turn red, never a good sign.

Freya snorted. “The day you are superior to me is… never mind. Merlin’s been put on the investigation team over the Daniels murder.” She looked triumphantly at Valiant, who was very homophobic and hated Merlin with a passion.

“What? You?” Valiant’s incredulous look was no doubt meant to be every bit as insulting as it was. “El Draco must want this one thrown out of court or something.” 

“I’m sure Merlin will be a welcome addition to our team,” another voice cut in.

“Lance!” Merlin spun round and grinned at his friend. “Can you believe it? I’m still waiting for Drake to jump out at me and yell ‘April fool!’”

“It’s definitely true. Nimueh is fuming – I rather suspect Drake did this to annoy her.” Lance grinned back at him. “And because you are brilliant and deserve the opportunity, of course.”

“This is bloody ridiculous!” Valiant said. “Of all the people here, why on earth would the old goat pick him?”

“Jealousy is not a nice trait, Alan,” Lance said, mildly. 

Valiant glared at Lance and then at Merlin before turning on his heel and stomping out of the room.

“Bye!” Lance called after him. “I hope you’ve got a change of clothes, Merlin. You’ll stick out like a sore thumb in CID dressed like that.”

Rain is a great leveller. Everything looks shitty when it’s grey and wet, from the really swanky houses up in North Avalon to the slum-like flats of the Lower Ascetir housing estate. Arthur’s posh neighbourhood of Camelot looked just as bedraggled as everywhere else in the pissing down rain, and his neighbours were quite possibly even more unfriendly than those of Ascetir.

At least in Ascetir there were those who knew Merlin, he did grow up just down the road in Ealdor Village after all. And as for those who chose to be more hostile, well, that was just the way police were treated in a neighbourhood like that. And to be honest, Merlin would rather be called a pig and have a half-hearted glare sent his way than have some posh bird look down her nose at him like he was the scum of the earth for dripping rainwater on her linoleum. 

Merlin’s first morning as a detective constable had been spent knocking on the doors of all Arthur’s neighbours to ask if they’d seen anything suspicious the night before. So far, so no different than being in uniform. Although at least in uniform he wasn’t getting his own clothes wet! Because so far the only difference between being a PC and a DC was that his favourite jumper was drenched.

“Did you notice anyone coming or going from number fifteen last night, Mrs Gorlois?” Lance asked the stone-faced woman in front of them. Mrs Mulligan across the road had been much nicer; she’d given them tea and madeira cake and told them to call her Alice while she let them warm up by her fire. She told them all about the comings and goings in the whole street and the lives of her various cats, grandchildren and children, in that order.

“Apart from the god-awful racket you lot made, you mean? And it’s _Ms_ Gorlois.” she responded, glaring at them like they were part of a rabble of drunken teenagers who had woken her up.

“A man died, _Ms_ Gorlois,” Lance said, showing the patience of a saint, which of course he was. “Did you see any activity around the house _before_ the police showed up?”

“This might surprise you to know, detective, but I have better things to do with my time than sit at the window spying on my neighbours.” She smoothed her blonde hair to make sure it hadn’t escaped from the tight bun it was in.

Honestly, they wouldn’t have been any more helpful with these questions around the estate either, but that would have had more to do with a general mistrust of the police rather than just thinking they were above being questioned.

“Well then!” Merlin smiled brightly. “If you are sure you didn’t see anything, maybe we’d best not waste any more time, some of us have murderers to catch, after all. Do let us know if you remember anything. If you see any madmen with swords, don’t hesitate to call.”

“Merlin—” Lance began.

“I thought you arrested him?” Ms Gorlois cut in.

“Arrested who?” Merlin asked, perfect air of innocence.

“The sodomite next door.” The venom in her voice and the hate in her heavily-kohled dark-brown eyes made Merlin physically recoil from her. 

“Mr Pendragon is helping us with our enquiries,” Lance said smoothly. He put a placating hand on Merlin’s arm. “No charges have been brought against anyone as yet.”

“What makes you think Mr Pendragon was the murderer?” Merlin asked.

“I saw him being driven off in a police car,” she said in a tone of voice that clearly implied Merlin was stupid.

“I thought you said you didn’t waste time watching the neighbours?”

“All the noise and the flashing blue lights were hard to miss.” Yep, she definitely thought Merlin was the stupidest person she had ever met.

“Is there any other reason for you believing that Mr Pendragon is responsible for the murder?” Lance asked, shooting Merlin a warning look.

Ms Gorlois was quiet for a moment before giving a big sigh. “Look, they used to argue a lot, alright? I used to hear the shouting through the wall. And I could hear thumps and bangs – thought they were coming in to join me some nights.”

“You never asked them about it?” Lance asked.

“I have no interest in their bedroom shenanigans.” She curled up her lip as though the thought disgusted her.

“Even if they are killing each other?” Merlin couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. 

“Well I don’t know what these homosexuals get up to, do I?” Ms Gorlois sounded exasperated.

“And what about last night?” Melin pressed. 

“What about last night?” 

“Well, if you can normally hear them arguing, what did you hear last night?” 

“There were raised voices some just before eight.” Damn it all, why couldn’t she have just told them that straight away?

“Are you sure of the time?” Lance asked. According to Mrs Mulligan, Arthur had not come home till nearly nine, just before the 999 call had been placed.

“Yes, I was trying to listen to the 15 Minute Drama on Radio 4.”

“Can you tell us anything else? This could be important.”

“No, I couldn’t hear what was actually being said for the most part. At one point someone shouted ‘get away from me’, but other than that it was just raised voices then a bit of a kerfuffle and the front door slamming.”

“You heard someone leave?” Lance asked, scribbling everything down quickly in his notebook.

“I heard the door shut, Constable. I was unaware of exactly what was happening in the house or I’d have called the police.”

“It’s Sergeant, actually. Detective Sergeant,” Lance said even though he had told her that when she answered the door. Perhaps even the seemingly unflappable Lance was getting irritated by this woman. 

“Yes, well, if you don’t mind, I have to pick my dog up from the grooming parlour now,” Ms Gorlois said, ushering them towards the back door – she’d made them come around the back so as not to make a mess in her hallway.

“We’ll be in touch, Mrs Gorlois.” If it had been anyone but Lance, Merlin might have suspected that he got her title wrong on purpose. 

“I’ve told you all I know,” she snapped, not bothering to correct him.

“You may well have overheard a murder, you are a key witness. We’ll be in touch.” Lance turned on his heel and stomped off around the side of the house. Merlin gave Ms Gorlois his most winning smile and hurried after him.

“Arthur was still out at 8 o’clock,” Merlin said as they climbed into the car.

“No, Mrs Mulligan saw Arthur leave ‘just after Emmerdale started’ and return ‘half-way through Gardener’s World’. There is nothing to say that what Ms Gorlois heard was actually Daniels getting murdered or that Pendragon did not return to the house whilst Mrs Mulligan was engrossed in Eastenders or something.” Lance ran a hand through his wet hair and sighed. 

“Do you think he’s guilty?” Merlin asked.

“I don’t know, it’s a bit early to say,” Lance replied, starting the engine to head back to the station. “What about you? You’re the one he nearly ran through with a sword.”

“He didn’t really, you know. He had a sword, I was there.”

“A sword covered in the blood of the dead man in the room.”

“Yeah.” Merlin watched the ceaseless rain out of the car window.

DCI Slater, rather than shouting at him or running him down in front of the others as he’d feared, decided to cope with having Merlin thrust onto her team by completely ignoring him.

This situation was actually fine by Merlin. It meant he didn’t have to say a word during the catch up meeting the whole team had back at the station. DI Thomas started them off, talking about going to speak to Arthur’s father, who was apparently a peer of the realm and some sort of media mogul.

“He’s cold,” Thomas was saying. “Really cold – didn’t seem to care that his son had been arrested. If anything, he tried to distance himself from Arthur.”

“Well, I suppose that explains where the son gets his cold-blooded murderer tendencies from,” DCI Slater said. Clearly she was not working under the theory of ‘innocent till proven guilty’. “What about the victim? Pendragon senior knew him too, I believe?” 

“Pillar of the community, according to Lord Uther. He really didn’t say anything you didn’t read in this morning’s papers – Ethan Daniels was a wonderful man, adored by the masses, faithful to his wife, brilliant father, gave to charity etc etc etc. Pendragon closed down any suggestion that Daniels was having an affair with his son, and yet did not say a word to defend Arthur.” 

“So, no love lost there then,” Slater said with a shrug, like she’d expected nothing else. “Godwinson, you spoke to the wife?” She looked over at Elena.

“Um, yes,” Elena replied, pushing her messy blonde locks out of her eyes. “Stuck up bitch by the name of Vivian – she presents, or rather presented, a daytime television show with her husband. You’d have thought we told her her dog died, although on second thoughts she might have been more upset. She wasn’t very forthcoming either. Couldn’t explain what Daniels might have been doing at Pendragon’s house. I got the impression that this was all a major inconvenience and we’d interrupted her beauty sleep for no good reason.”

“And the children?” 

“Away at boarding school. I contacted the headmistress, I’m going up to speak with them later this afternoon.”

“Very well. Dulac,” Slater turned to Lance and managed to somehow make it clear that Merlin was not sitting next to him. “How did you get on with the door to door?”

Lance started to explain about the people he and Merlin had spoken to that morning. Merlin drifted off a little. He didn’t mean to, it was just that he was up late last night, what with the murder and everything, and then up again early because he got called in to see El Draco and—

“Don’t let us keep you up, Emrys.” Shit! The first time Slater had spoken to him since that bollocking first thing thing and it’s because he’s gone and dozed off! He was going to be back in uniform before he’d even lasted a day.

“Sorry, Guv!” He tried to sit up straight and look awake but a jaw-cracking yawn ruined his efforts. 

Slater’s cold blue eyes bored through his skull. “If CID is too boring for you, Emrys, please do feel free to go back to patrolling the streets. And don’t ever let me hear you refer to me as ‘guv’ again.”

“I’m sorry, Gu—, I’m sorry, I didn’t get much sleep.” He wasn’t making excuses, he really wasn’t, he was just stating a fact.

“To be fair, Boss,” Elyan cut in. “Both Elena and I had a late start this morning after the call out, whereas Emrys was up late and in early.” Merlin was quickly revising all the bad things he’d thought about Thomas after he yelled at him last night.

“If he can’t hack it, he knows what to do.” Slater sent him a challenging look. Fuck her, she wouldn’t get rid of him that easily.

“Has anyone interviewed Pendragon yet?” Lance asked, moving the conversation away from Merlin.

“He’s been getting a once over from medical this morning.” Thomas said. “Forensics are still going over his clothes and the house. Dr Fraser is doing the postmortem as we speak. Elena has been doing some background – Ellie?”

“Yeah, pretty standard stuff. Arthur Tristan Pendragon, 26. Only child of Uther Pendragon and Igraine DuBois. First in Pure Maths from the local uni, although apparently he turned down a place at Cambridge. Works as an accountant in Pendragon Media. Unmarried, no children that we know of.”

“Ok, I’ll lead the interview with Pendragon, Dulac, you’re with me. Thomas, I want you observing. You two.” She paused to glare at Merlin and Elena. “I want you to continue with the research Elena started this morning. Find out as much as you possibly can about Pendragon’s movements. I want to know who is friends are, what his job entails, where he goes for a run – anything you can possibly find.” Slater stood up and clacked away on her scary red-soled high heels. Lance gave Merlin a quick encouraging smile and hurried after her.

“Her bite is worse than her bark.” Elena grinned at Merlin. “Welcome to the team by the way.”

“Isn’t it supposed to be her bark is worse than her bite?” Merlin asked.

Elena pretended to think for a minute. “Hmm, no. Her bite is definitely worse.” She tried to pull a straight face but ended up letting out a snorting sort of laugh instead. “Come on, I’ll get you set up with a desk and show you what I’ve done so far.”

Merlin grinned, he had a feeling he was going to like Elena.

“Ok, but first I really need to write up my report from last night.”

“Oh paperwork, the joy! This is what we joined the police for.” She rolled her eyes as she pushed him towards an empty desk.

“Hey, Newbie, put the kettle on,” Elyan called, sticking his head out of one of the interview rooms. “Boss likes it strong next to no milk, I’ll have two sugars, Lance has some chamomile crap in the cupboard. Ellie’ll show you.”

“I guess that means me?” Merlin asked Elena.

“Ooh, I’m not the noob anymore, brilliant!” She jumped up and beckoned him over to the tiny kitchenette to show him how everyone took their tea. “It’s ok, Lance made a list of who has what and how and taped it to the fridge,” she whispered conspiratorially, although the list was perfectly plain for anyone to see.

“Yeah, of course he did.” Merlin shook his head. He liked Lance, they’d been friends since Merlin had started even though Lance got promoted to CID not long after, but the man loved spreadsheets and lists and detailed note taking. Mind you, the note taking thing was probably a good idea.

Elena said it would be ok to take Slater’s tea into the interview room so he put the cups on a tray and took them through. He could feel her eyes boring into him as he put an unasked for cup of sugary tea down in front of Pendragon.

When he got back, he could hear Elena talking to Elyan so he took her tea in there. 

“Thanks, Merlin,” Elyan said, grabbing his cup. “Listen in for a bit if you want.” He indicated a pair of headphones on the desk.

Merlin pulled up a chair and grabbed a set of headphones, crossing one foot over his knee.

Arthur looked surprisingly young sitting there wearing white paper pyjamas without the bravado of a broadsword to hide behind.

“What was the nature of your relationship with Mr Daniels?” Slater asked Arthur, taking a sip of her tea and wrinkling her nose at it.

“What business is that of yours?” Arthur replied, folding his arms and looking belligerent. 

“I’d like to find out why you murdered him him.” She gave him a sweet smile like she was trying to help him. 

“I already told you, it wasn’t me!”

“Mr Pendragon, Arthur,” Slater put on her best condescending voice. “You were found at the scene, brandishing the murder weapon, covered in the victim’s blood. Come on now, let’s not waste everyone’s time here.”

“I also already told you that I’m not talking to you without a lawyer.”

“I dare say your father is organising the best lawyer that money can buy. Your precious uncle Agravaine, perhaps?” It was like watching a spider taunting a fly caught in its web.

Arthur looked down at the desk, a dark flush staining his cheeks.

“What’s wrong?” Slater pasted a fake look of concern on her face. “Did daddy not want to help you get away with murder?”

“I didn’t kill him!” Arthur slapped his hand down on the table making his tea slop out over the rim of the cup.

A little bit of Merlin wanted to go in there and tell Arthur not to react to her, that getting angry was exactly what DCI Slater wanted so she could prove he had a violent temper. Another bit of him was unsure why he was so keen to help a man who in all likelihood murdered his lover and then waved the bloody sword at Merlin. 

“Then who did? Our forensics team have yet to find evidence of anyone else being in the house. Admit it, Arthur, you had a fight and you killed him.”

“I DIDN’T!”

“Perhaps he did it himself? Stabbed himself in the chest with a sword?”

“Boss—” Lance started to say before the door opened and Elena came in followed by short pretty young woman.

“I’d like to speak to my client,” the newcomer said, staring Slater down. Kudos to her, Merlin thought. Nimueh Slater was not an easy woman to stand up to.

 

 

“Oh shit.” Elyan was staring at the screen like something bad was about to happen. Merlin looked over and raised an eyebrow in askance. Elyan shook his head and stood up, leaving the room quickly.

“And you are?” Slater asked, refusing to be cowed.

“My name is Gwen Thomas, I’m Mr Pendragon’s solicitor. Now, let me speak to my client.”

“Fine.” Slater practically growled the words out. “Interview suspended 14.35. Come on,” she said turning to Lance. She stormed out of the room, Lance trailing behind her.

Merlin quickly took off his headphones and hurried out into the corridor, not wanting DCI Slater to catch him slacking. 

“Is this your doing?” Slater was snarling at Elyan. “What, you felt sorry for poor little rich boy because daddy wouldn’t help him? Decided to call your sister?”

“I didn’t call her!” Elyan said, raising his hands before him. “I was as surprised to see her as you were, we don’t tend to discuss our work. And I haven’t even spoken to her recently.”

“If I find this is your doing, you will find yourself out of a job so fast your feet won’t touch the ground.” Slater stalked into her office and slammed the door.

“Wait, that’s your sister?” Lance asked Elyan.

Elyan nodded. “Yep. Little sis got the brains,” he replied, trying not to look proud and failing miserably.

“And the looks,” Lance said. He blushed scarlet when he realised what he’d said and tried to backtrack. “I mean, she’s very pretty, you know, that’s all. Not that you’re not or anything…”

“Are you calling me pretty, Lance?” Elyan asked with a straight face.

“What? No!”

“So you’re saying I’m not pretty?”

“No! I mean… You’re not really my type, what with you being a bloke and all… Not that there is anything wrong with that, blokes liking blokes I mean…” Lance turned to Merlin and said this last bit to him like he thought he’d somehow offended him by not being gay. 

Merlin opened his mouth to tell Lance it was ok before the idiocy of the conversation caught up with him and let out a snort instead. 

Elyan grinned and gave Lance a friendly punch on the arm. “Just stay away from my sister, ok?” he said, trying to look stern.

They walked back into the main office to find a man with longish grey hair standing by one of the desks talking to Elena.

“Gaius!” Merlin call out, going over.

“Merlin, my boy!” Gaius replied with a smile. “I heard you got a promotion, congratulations.”

“It’s only temporary,” Merlin said with a shrug, trying to appear nonchalant but unable to keep the massive grin off his face.

“Do you have the post-mortem report on Daniels?” Elyan asked.

“Yes, right here,” Gaius said handing over a folder. “And the lab report back on Pendragon.”

“Let me guess, death by sword?”

“Yes, Elyan, your forensic skills never cease to amaze me,” Gaius replied dryly. 

“I know, I clearly went down the wrong career path.” Elyan suddenly stopped laughing and resumed his professional air as the office door opened. Merlin could swear the temperature in the room dropped several degrees.

“Ah, Dr Fraser,” DCI Slater said, coming into the room. “I take it you have my reports?” 

“Certainly, Nimueh. I have your reports right here,” Gaius replied. He handed the two folders he was carrying over with a raised eyebrow that said he wasn’t intimidated.

“It’s about time.” She practically snatched the reports off him.

“Well these things can either be done quickly or properly.” One of the things Merlin always liked about Dr Fraser was how unflappable he was. Everyone else cowered away when DCI Slater came into the room, even Elyan.

“Perhaps if you can’t keep up with the pace, Gaius, it might be time to think of retiring? Let someone younger have a chance? I’m sure Edwin would be happy to step up.” Slater smiled. Bitch. 

“Well, if you think I’m too old, perhaps you’d better take it up with Chief Constable Drake.” Gaius replied. Of course, this was a brilliant strategy. El Draco was probably already Chief Con when Gaius was still in nappies so if Slater tried to claim Gaius was to old… 

Slater’s expression soured and she turned and went back to her office with the reports, slamming the door behind her again.

“Don’t suppose you can give us a run down on those?” Elyan asked Gaius, frowning at the door.

“Well, basically, as you already surmised, the sword killed him. I would say he was taken by surprise – if he had seen the attack coming I would expect defensive wounds on the arms as he tried to protect himself or for the wound to be more on the side or back as he tried to get away. As it is, he took the full force to the front on the left-hand side of his chest – the angle being from the right and below,” here Gaius demonstrated the stabbing motion, “suggesting the sword was in the left hand of his assailant, who was a little shorter than the victim.”

“Is Pendragon a lefty?” Lance asked.

“Yes, I believe so,” Gaius replied. “To be honest, I might have expected the sword to have done rather more damage than it did.”

“More damage than killing him?” Merlin asked.

“Yes, Merlin.” Gaius raised his trademark eyebrow of doom at him. “The sword wasn’t wielded in a cutting motion, it was thrust forward, just the once. Like someone was holding it in front of them in a defensive pose. Arthur has a powerful build, he could have swung that sword easily if he’d really been trying to hurt the victim.”

“He did hurt him.”

“I don’t get it,” Elena said. “Ethan Daniels always seemed like such a nice man. How could anyone do that to him? This guy must be a real nutter.”

“I don’t believe he’s actually been charged yet.” Gaius’s eyebrow crept even higher up his head like it was trying to make up for the lack of hair up there.

“You don’t think Pendragon did it?” Elyan asked.

“It is not my job to say, one way or another. I deal only in facts, not supposition. All I can say for sure is that I do not believe it was a frenzied attack, the victim bears only one wound and if not for the precise location of that wound, piercing the heart, he would probably still be with us.”

“So it could have been an accident? Or self-defence?” Lance suggested.

“It could have been, again, that is for you to work out. Oh, and by the way, Gillie says there are a set of fingerprints on the handle of the sword that haven’t been matched yet. Probably one of the team not following procedure, but it would be wise to check.”

“What about Pendragon?” Elyan asked. “If it was self-defence and they had a fight, he might have injuries too.”

“Well now, that is the strange thing,” Gaius replied. “Arthur does have numerous bruises and abrasions on his body, but they are all older than last night, and all beneath the line of his clothes, providing he wears long sleeves.”

“What sort of thing do you mean?” Lance frowned.

Gaius looked at him and shook his head. “There are fingerprints on his arms, like someone has held him down. There are bruises littering his legs, arms and torso, that could have come from a fist or shoe. There are whip marks on his back. There are various burns. All of the marks are below the lines of his clothing and they vary in age. Some scars look like they have been there quite a long time. The freshest of the bruises I would say are two days old, three at the most. He is also somewhat undernourished.”

“Would you say S&M?” Elyan’s tone of voice suggested this was something he’d seen before. “Someone who likes pain, gets off on it. You know, whips and handcuffs and stuff like that.”

“So you’re saying he lets people hurt him? Scar him.” This did not seem to compute in Lance’s world.

“Not if it’s done properly,” Elena butted in, having come over from her workstation to listen. “Someone who knows what they are doing wouldn’t cause actual harm. Anyway, I wouldn’t expect a sub to turn around and stab someone with a bloody great sword.”

Merlin did not want to know how Elena knew this. She seemed like such a sweet, innocent girl.

“Or it could be abuse,” he suggested. “Ethan could have been abusing Arthur. Maybe something happened that was just the final straw and Arthur flipped. Or he was trying to defend himself.”

“Well, we can get back in there once Gwen has finished her debrief.” Elyan shrugged. “What did I do with my cuppa? Don’t you lot have work to be getting on with?”

“Emrys.” Slater came out of her office.

“Yes, Gu— Boss?” 

“You’re homosexual, correct?”

Merlin was somewhat taken aback. He was pretty sure she wasn’t allowed to ask him that. Then again, it wasn’t like it was something he was ashamed of and most people already knew anyway…

She glared at him, clearly he was taking too long to answer.

“I fail to see what that has to do with my work,” he said. He was pretty sure he was going to regret being brave in the next thirty seconds. Particularly when he heard Elena inhale beside him.

“It has everything to do with it or I wouldn’t be asking. I assure you, I have no interest whatsoever in your private life. 

“Umm…” Merlin looked at his new team with uncertainty. 

“I need you in with me in to interview Pendragon.” Slater turned and walked towards the room where she’d left Arthur talking to his solicitor. “Come on, don’t dawdle.”

“’Have fun,” Lance said, slapping him on the back.

“Right.”

Close up, Arthur looked tired. Weary, even. He bore little resemblance to the blood-soaked, sword-wielding maniac from the night before. He was skinny, gaunt even. Someone, probably Gwen had found him some proper clothes to wear, although Merlin suspected they’d come from the lost property box because they didn’t seem to fit or suit him.

Once he registered Nimueh and Merlin entering the room, the tired, lost look left him, replaced by a calm, collected, professional business man.

“I thought you might need something to eat,” Slater said, pretending to be nice. She threw a chocolate bar at Pendragon and smirked as he caught it in his left hand.

“I don’t eat chocolate,” Arthur said, pushing the bar back across the table at her. 

“I’d rather hope the police would be giving my client a little more to eat than that,” Gwen said.

“Of course. I believe lunch was given to the prisoners earlier.”

“Detainees.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Detainees, not prisoners. My client has not been charged.”

“Yet,” Slater said, waving her hand in dismissal. 

Arthur showed no emotion whatsoever at that.

“I’d appreciate it if you did not bully my client.”

“I can’t help but notice, Arthur, that you are left-handed,” Slater said, ignoring Gwen’s comment.

“Yes,” Arthur replied.

“Hmm.” Slater scribbled something down on her notepad.

“Are you aware that forensic science can determine such things as whether a person is left- or right-handed?” She didn’t look up from what she was writing.

“Of course I am,” Arthur replied stiffly.

“A murderer, I mean,” Slater said, raising her head and looking Arthur right in the eye. “From the angle of the wound.”

“And let me guess, the murderer was a lefty?” Arthur said with an exaggerated sigh.

Slater just smiled at him.

“I’m hardly the only left-handed person in the world.” How was it possible to sound like a condescending prat whilst in police custody?

“This is true, but you are the only left-handed person who was found at the scene of the crime, holding the murder weapon, covered in the victim’s blood.” Slater continued to hold Arthur’s gaze. “You know, your sentence will be lighter if you just confess now. Tell us the truth, Arthur.”

“I. Didn’t. Kill. Ethan.” Arthur enunciated each word clearly.

“That is a shame.” Slater shook her head. “I was hoping you were going to cooperate. After all, if you plead guilty, you could always argue mitigating circumstances.”

“What mitigating circumstances?”

“Well, from the bruises, I’d go with systematic abuse.” The tone of Slater’s voice, probably for the benefit of the tape, was sympathetic. The look on Slater’s face, however, was mocking.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Arthur’s looked cold and almost intimidating. Merlin had seen Arthur’s father in interviews on the television before, he could definitely see a resemblance between the two.

“The bruises, Mr Pendragon. The ones on your torso.” Slater smiled sweetly. “I’m sure you must have noticed them.”

Pendragon just looked at her and didn’t answer. 

“They must have hurt. Probably still do. I don’t know that I’d be forgiving of someone who treated me like that.”

“You don’t know anything about it. You don’t know anything about me, you don’t know anything about Ethan. You don’t know anything.” It shouldn’t have been possible for Arthur to sound more stuck-up than he already did, but somehow he managed it.

“Why don’t you tell me?”

“You don’t have to answer this, Arthur,” Gwen said, putting her hand on Arthur’s arm.

“I’m fine, Gwen,” he replied. He turned his icy stare on Slater. “I don’t know what you think you know about me, but you are wrong. I loved Ethan.”

“Ah, but did he love you?” Nimueh smiled sweetly. Merlin was starting to learn that the sweeter the smile, the more nasty she was about to be. “Not enough to leave his wife. That must have hurt.”

“You wouldn’t understand. Ethan loves me. It’s different, between two men, more physical. It doesn’t mean it’s not love.”

“Hmm, what would you say, DC Emrys?” to Merlin’s surprise, Slater turned to him. “Is a relationship between two men really so very different to that between a man and woman?”

Merlin opened and shut his mouth a few times, unable to form a response. 

“I simply thought you might be able to show some insight here. After all, as Mr Pendragon says, _I_ couldn’t possibly understand about relationships between gay men, not being one myself.” 

He was pretty sure this was completely out of order, outing him to a suspect like that. Private lives were not supposed to be divulged. 

“I guess all relationships are different,” he said, finding his voice at last. “Personally, I’ve only been in equal relationships, but that is just my preference. And I’m pretty sure you don’t have to be gay to be into BDSM or vice versa.”

Pendragon was looking at him rather like a scientist might study a particularly strange specimen in a lab.

“So,” Slater said. “Ethan showed his love for you by beating you? Is that it? Was he abusing you?”

Cold blue eyes turned to Nimueh. “What exactly makes you think that I’d allow anyone to abuse me?” Pendragon’s voice could have frozen the sea itself. “I am a Pendragon, Pendragons are not victims.”

“So, you are saying this is consensual?” Nimueh asked. “Do you get off on pain, Arthur? Is that it? You like to be dominated, hurt?”

“That is enough.” Gwen said, her voice brooking no arguments.

“I’m just trying to ascertain if this was a lovers’ tiff or some sort of game gone wrong.” Slater shrugged. 

“How many times do I have to tell you?” Arthur sat up in his seat. “I didn’t kill Ethan. Whoever did kill him is still out there – maybe you should be trying to find them rather than harassing me!”

The door opened and an older officer Merlin did not know stuck his head in. “Boss? The Chief Con needs a word.”

“Very well, sit in for a moment, would you? DS Bedevere has entered the room. Interview suspended 13.55. DCI Slater leaving the room.” Slater stopped the tape and got up. “I’ll be back shortly.”

“I might just take the opportunity for a quick loo break.” Gwen said. 

Merlin was left sitting facing Arthur with DS Bedevere sitting over by the door, clearly wanting to get back to his own work. They sat in silence for what felt like hours before Arthur finally spoke.

“She must be a real bitch to work with.” 

“I, er can’t really comment on that.” Merlin replied. “Any way, I have a feeling I’m not supposed to talk to you.” He glanced over at Bedevere who was frowning at him.

“Yeah? Well, they can’t stop me from talking to you.” Arthur said. He sat forward, one hand out on the desk and examined Merlin. “I recognise you, don’t I?”

 

 

Merlin nodded, figuring that didn’t really count as conversation.

“You were the officer in the house last night. I nearly didn’t recognise you, out of uniform. Did they promote you?”

Merlin nodded again.

“Well, at least someone benefitted from Ethan’s death.” Arthur sounded bitter at that, and Merlin couldn’t really blame him.

“It’s only temporary,” he said.

Pendragon nodded. He looked down at his hands and suddenly seemed to realise that at some point he’d pushed back the grey sleeve of his borrowed top, exposing the bruising on his wrist. He sat back and pushed the sleeve down.

“That looks painful,” Merlin said. He could see now what Gaius had meant by undernourished. Pendragon’s wrists were far skinnier than his general build suggested they should be.

Arthur shrugged then looked up and stared at Merlin right in the eye. “Ethan liked to hold me down, you know? Liked to be in control.”

“And what about you, Arthur? Did you like that?” Merlin held Arthur’s gaze.

Arthur looked away first. “Yeah, I like it just fine.” 

Gwen returned just then, looking between the two of them with suspicion. “I hope you haven’t been interviewing my client on your own.” 

“No,” Arthur replied after a beat. “DC Emrys here was just telling me all about his promotion.” He flashed a smile at her that clearly wasn’t fooling anyone.

Elyan opened the door. “Sorry, guys. DCI Slater has been called away so interview suspended for the moment.”

“Typical,” Gwen muttered under her breath.

“Merlin,” Elyan said, inclining his head towards the door. Giving a quick smile to Gwen and Arthur, Merlin left the interview room.

As it turned out, Slater had been called to a press conference.

Elena bounced up out of her chair as soon as Merlin entered the room. “Hey, come and see all the weird shit this fucker has in his house!” She pulled out the pictures from the forensic sweep of Arthur’s house. 

“Bloody hell!” Merlin said. “How many swords does one guy need?”

“Amazing, aren’t they?” Lance said. “Apparently most are replicas, but these ones in the cases.” He pulled out two photos from the pile. “According to Gaius these are genuine antique mediaeval weaponry. Do you have any idea how much these are worth?”

“A lot of money?” Merlin suggested.

“Doesn’t even come close, mate!” Lance sounded like he’d fallen in love with Arthur’s weird collection of weapons and armour.

“You know, he called the sword Isobelle,” Merlin said, studying the picture of the murder weapon.

“Well, it is a beauty, isn’t it?” Lance said. “Replica, obviously, but still worth a bob or two.”

“If he calls his sword Isobelle, I wonder what he calls his penis,” Elena said absently. When no one answered she looked up to find them all staring at her. “Oh, come on! You all do it and you know you do!”

“Probably ‘Excalibur’,” Merlin said, trying not to laugh.

Elyan let out a snort beside him. Merlin gave in a started laughing along with the others.

“I do hope you are all working.” Nimueh’s voice cut across the room as she returned from her press conference.

Everyone abruptly stopped laughing and tried to look busy.

“Where were you last night, Arthur?” Slater asked as they resumed the interview.

“I went to the gym straight after work,” Arthur said.

“Can anyone corroborate that?”

“The gym staff, I should imagine.”

“No friends?”

“No.”

“You have no friends?”

“Of course I have friends. They weren’t at the gym.” Arthur sighed and rolled his eyes. Clearly this interview bored him. No doubt someone like that thought they could just murder whoever they liked and get away with it.

“You weren’t wearing gym clothes.”

“I changed back into my work clothes. Ethan prefers me to look smart.” His bravado wavered slightly as he amended his remark. “Prefered.”

“And you always did what he told you?”

Arthur didn’t answer.

“Maybe you never made it to the gym. Maybe you went back to the house and killed Ethan Daniels.”

“No.”

“Or maybe you were visiting another lover? How many lovers do you have?”

“Oh well, you know us gays, always jumping in and out of each other’s beds.” Arthur’s voice was dripping with sarcasm. 

Merlin let out an inelegant snort. All eyes in the room turned on him. “Um, sorry,” He said, quickly turning his face down to his notepad.

“This is not a joke.” Slater’s tone was cutting and could easily have been aimed either of them. 

“Fine, I have no other lovers, just Ethan.” Arthur sighed again.

“What about previous lovers? Anyone who might bear a grudge?” 

“Apart from his wife?”

“You slept with his wife?” 

“No!”

“Is this relevant to the case, Inspector? You seem to be badgering my client.” Gwen’s voice was quiet but firm. 

“Was Mr Daniels abusing you?” Nimueh asked Arthur, apparently trying to catch Arthur off guard with a complete change of tack.

“I already told you, no.”

“So where did the bruises come from? The finger marks on your wrists?”

Arthur leant forward and looked her in the eye. “Ethan likes to hold me down while he’s fucking me.” 

“And the other bruises?”

“He can get a little… enthusiastic.”

“We’ve been to your house, Mr Pendragon.”

“I figured as much.”

“For a couple with such a… _vigourous_ sex life, you have very little in the way of paraphernalia.”

“What?”

“You know, sex toys and the like. I have to say, I don’t know when I last saw such a vanilla collection. You don’t even own a pair of handcuffs – rather odd for a couple you claim were into S&M, wouldn’t you say?”

Arthur coloured and looked down at his wrists which were now covered by his sleeves. “Ethan usually prefered a more hands-on approach,” he said. His veneer was starting to crack.

“So he held you down himself? Beat you up with his own hands? Kicked you?” Slater was sat forward now and, in Merlin’s opinion, she seemed to be enjoying this far too much.

Arthur didn’t answer, instead folding his arms across his chest.

“Come on, Arthur, don’t you have some clever come-back for me?” Nimueh needled at him. “Daniels was considerably older than you, do you always go for older men? Perhaps you have daddy issues?”

“My client is not obliged to answer these questions,” Gwen said. 

“No, he’s not. However, he’s just murdered a much-loved celebrity, so it really would help if he just told us everything.”

“I didn’t kill Ethan! For fuck’s sake, how many more times!” Arthur flung himself backwards in his seat.

“What was the age difference again?” Nimueh said, although Merlin knew she was perfectly aware of the answer. “Seventeen years, wasn’t it?”

“I fail to see what difference that makes,” Arthur said, folding his arms in front of him. 

“Very well,” Nimueh said. She turned to the next item in her notes.

“Do you always leave dangerous weapons lying around in the house?”

“No.” Arthur frowned. “No, I shouldn’t have done that. I normally keep them locked away, but I was in the middle of cleaning her and the phone rang and I forgot. I shouldn’t have done that, it was stupid.” 

“You seem to have rather an impressive collection of swords.”

“I collect mediaeval weaponry, it’s an interest of mine.” Arthur shrugged like this was a perfectly normal thing.

“You collect mediaeval weaponry?” Merlin couldn’t even conceive of the idea of owning item as expensive as those swords, let alone simply collecting them like other people might collect stamps.

“Yes, do you have a problem with that?” Arthur turned a challenging look on Merlin. “My best friend is a historian, it’s just an something we both got into when we were teenagers.”

“Hmm,” Slater said. “And I believe you were a fencing champion when you were younger?”

“Yes. I gave it up when I went to Uni. Too much work.”

“So it would be safe to say you know how to handle a sword?”

“You wouldn’t need to know how to handle a sword to butcher someone like that,” Arthur said flatly. The lack of emotion in his voice was strange.

“If you didn’t kill Mr Daniels, what were you doing holding the murder weapon and threatening my officers with it?” Nimueh asked.

“I wasn’t thinking straight.” Arthur said after a moment. “I had just walked in to find my boyfriend dead. I heard a noise, I thought the killer was still in the house so I picked up the closest thing to hand.”

“How very convenient for you.”

“Not really. Apparently it made me prime suspect. Tell me, have you even looked for anyone else? The killer is still out there somewhere.”

“We are making all the necessary enquiries, I assure you.”

“I think this has gone on long enough,” Gwen said. “In fact, as you obviously have no evidence, I really think it is about time you released my client.”

“Oh, I haven’t finished with Mr Pendragon here yet.”

“My client needs a break.”

“Just a few more questions.”

The interview went on in circles for another few hours until, finally, Nimueh had to give up. For the time being, at least.


	3. Chapter 3

It was a blessed relief when Nimueh let Arthur go because it meant Merlin could also go home, and to be honest he felt like he hadn’t slept in days.

Arthur was an enigma to Merlin. When he first saw him, he thought he was a murdering psychopath. Yet even then he felt a certain empathy with the lost soul in front of him; Arthur had looked so broken and lonely in the midst of all that mayhem. Then, today, Arthur had seemed like a complete stuck-up twat. But underneath that, there was this glimmer of a lost boy whose father had abandoned him in his hour of need, whose lover had died a horrible death. 

What if Arthur hadn’t done it? Everyone seemed to think it a foregone conclusion, but just what if? That would mean that some mad person had gone into Arthur’s home and murdered his boyfriend and instead of sympathy and counselling he was getting accusations and blame.

Arthur was beautiful, and yeah, Merlin was a copper, he wasn’t stupid, he knew that beautiful people were just as capable of doing dreadful things as ordinary people. But Arthur, he just gave off this vibe that made Merlin not want to believe him capable, even though he of all people should know, he saw him covered in bloody waving the sword around.

He shook his head and sat up as Nimueh walked into the room.

“Morning, everyone.” She said. “As most of you know, Pendragon has been released without charge. That does not mean that he is no longer a suspect, it simply means we need to gather more evidence. He will be staying at the house of one Leon Wiseman.”

“What do we know about Wiseman?” Elyan asked. “Is he another of Pendragon’s lovers?”

“Leon Wiseman,” Lance read out from his notes. “His father is a high-up in Pendragon Media. Their company, Wiltshire Television, started by his grandfather, was bought out by Pendragon in the early nineties. Leon and Arthur were at Harrow together, best friends since they were eleven. I have seen no evidence to suggest they were ever more than friends. In fact, Wiseman is engaged to a Mithian Nemeth.”

“Hmm, you know what these posh entitled public school boys are like.” Nimueh waved her hand dismissively. “Buggering each other left, right and centre. Does Wiseman work for Pendragon too?”

“No, actually, he’s a journalist.” Lance said.

“A journalist? Why on earth did we let Pendragon leave with a satan-spawn journalist?”

“Well, we couldn’t actually have stopped him, But Wiseman is not that sort of journalist. He’s a writer and historian. He’s done some mediaeval stuff but recently he did that TV series about the holocaust; there was a book with it.”

“Oh, I saw that, he’s like a genius or something, right?” Merlin said. “Great-Grandad was the composer Max Weisfogel.”

“Yeah, that’s him he—”

“Ok, do you two want to fangirl later and let’s get back to the case?” Slater said.

“So, we think Pendragon is guilty?” Lance asked.

“Do you think he’s not? Perhaps you are in the wrong job, sergent.” Nimueh replied. “He is a sociopath, cold, calculating. Showed little or no emotion through the interview process. He has a shaky alibi, strong motive, and there is plenty of physical evidence against him.”

“So why didn’t we charge him?” Elena asked.

“Because we have yet to disprove his alibi and at present the evidence is circumstantial. I want this case watertight, the bastard will not wriggle free.”

“Well, I’ve done some digging into Arthur’s background,” Elena said. “I’m not sure it’s natural for anyone to be as squeaky clean as this guy. He just seems to work and sleep and go to the gym.”

“I need someone to check out his alibi,” Nimueh said. “If he was really at the gym, someone has to have seen him.”

“There are no indications of any sort of relationship with anyone except to a few possible links with a woman called Morgana Le Fay.”

“Morgana Le Fay?” Elyan said. “She’s a friend of my sister.”

“The same sister that’s Arthur’s solicitor?” Merlin asked.

“The only one I have,” Elyan replied. “I guess that explains what she’s doing here. It seems dear Uther refused to help his son.”

“Why?” Merlin asked. “I mean, Pendragon seems like an arrogant arse, but surely his own father would want to help him?”

“I don’t know, probably the gay thing – you know what blokes like that are like.” Elyan replied. “Anything that might ruin their precious reputations. Although the murder thing probably wouldn’t help with that either.”

“Wow, makes me glad my Dad let me down before I was born rather than waiting till I was old enough to care.” Merlin said. “I was under the impression that Pendragon Junior was already out and proud though, so it’s not like Senior only just found out his son was gay.”

“Yeah, I get the impression his friends and family know, but now the whole country will know,” Lance said, shaking his head. “That probably bothers someone like Uther more than the fact his friend’s dead and his son probably did it. It’s all about appearance.” 

“Right, well, Godwinson, see what else you can find out about Le Fay. And see what else you can pull up on Uther Pendragon and on the victim himself. DuLac, I want you to chase up the alibi at the gym, go down there if you have to. Oh, and check and see if forensics have anything on those stray prints. Thomas, Emrys, I need you to chase up any other leads, can’t have anyone accusing us of persecuting Pendragon.” Nimueh went into her office and shut the door.

“Do you think Arthur did it?” Merlin asked Elyan as they went about their assigned tasks. 

“In all honesty? Probably. He does seem the most likely culprit.”

“What about the wife?” Merlin said. “Woman scorned and all that. Or someone else who might have a grudge against Ethan. Or even someone who might have a grudge against Arthur, it’s his house, after all.”

“Well, that is what we need to investigate, young Emrys.” Elyan slapped him on the back and dumped a pile of folders down on his desk. “Personally, I’d say she inherits, so that gives her motive.”

Merlin sighed and got down to work.

It was getting on for lunch when the call came through. Some sort of disturbance at the address of one Leon Wiseman, uniform at the scene, should CID attend? Merlin quite happily volunteered to go with Elyan and check the situation out.

When they got to Leon’s house, which was just a few streets away from Arthur’s, they found a man Merlin did not recognise being led to a police car by a very large policeman. Pendragon junior sat on the doorstep with a bloody face, being attended to by Freya and a tall man with red curls. 

“Percy, what’s happened here?” Elyan asked the officer by the car.

“That fucker murdered my brother and you incompetent bastards let him go, that’s what happened!” the man by the car shouted at them. He tried to pull away, but Percy easily stopped him.

“This gentleman here.” Percy indicated the man in the car. “Is Oswald Daniels, the brother of the chap who was murdered a couple of streets away. And that.” He turned and indicated Arthur. “Is revenge.”

“That doesn’t even begin to look like revenge, I’m going to kill the little cunt!” Oswald’s face was an alarming shade of puce. Fortunately, Percy’s sheer size clearly made him a man not to be argued with as he ushered Oswald into the car and shut the door on him. 

“Ok, thanks Perce. I’d better talk to him.” Elyan climbed into the front passenger seat of the police car. “Emrys, check on Pendragon, would you?”

Merlin made his way up to the house. “Replaced me with the beefcake model already?” he asked Freya, indicating Percy. 

“Hmm… he is quite easy on the eye, vast improvement on the last one,” she teased back.

“Yeah? Bet he doesn’t bring you tea and bacon sarnies.”

“Early days yet, Merlin, early days.” She waggled her eyebrows at him.

“So, what happened to laughing boy here?” He nodded towards Arthur, who was cradling his nose and nursing a black eye and a split lip.

“Oh, you know, ran into some guy’s fist a couple of times.” Freya shrugged. 

“That was careless. Is he going to need to see a doctor?”

“Hello, I am actually here. It’s just a few bruises,” Arthur muttered as he heaved himself upright, holding onto the doorframe from leverage.

“It’s assault, Arthur,” the other man said. Up close, Merlin recognised him as Leon Wiseman off the telly. It would probably be bad practice to ask for his autograph.

“He’s upset. His brother’s just been murdered,” Arthur said.

“Stop making excuses for everyone, Arthur.” Leon put out a hand to steady his friend, his face a picture of concern.

“Come on, let’s get you inside,” Merlin said. “I’ve done a first aid course.”

Leon led them into the sort of kitchen that Merlin’s mum would have had kittens over, even though her cooking skills were legendary for all the wrong reasons. 

“How about tea?” Leon asked.

“Yeah, Leon, tea, the remedy to cure all ills.” Arthur winced as he attempted to crack a smile.

“Tea would be great, ta,” Freya said quickly, even though technically they hadn’t been asked. Freya was never one to turn down the possibility of tea.

“So, how did Mr Daniels find you?” Merlin asked. He flashed Leon a quick smile as he was handed first aid supplies.

“I think he might have followed us back here last night,” Leon said.

“And he waited till now to make his move?” Freya said. “That’s weird.”

“I suspect he was waiting for the right opportunity,” Leon replied.

“How do you mean?” Merlin asked.

“He means, Ozzy was waiting for _them_ to leave,” Arthur said, waving his hand at Freya when he said ‘them’.

Merlin looked at Freya in askance. She shrugged. “Slater asked for uniform to keep an eye on him, make sure he wasn’t getting up to no good. No one came to relieve us so we went to get chips.”

“And then?” Merlin looked between Leon and Arthur.

“He rang the bell, I answered, he started mouthing off at me,” Leon said. “Arthur came out and Oswald started hitting him and yelling about Arthur being a murderer and a liar.”

“He doesn’t believe that Ethan and I were in a relationship. Ow!” Arthur moved out of the way of Merlin’s questing hands.

“I don’t think it’s broken,” Merlin said as he made Arthur sit still so he could check his nose. “So, responding with their fists runs in the Daniels family I take it?”

“Damn, you’re wasted as a copper, should have been a stand up.” Arthur’s face had taken on that mulish look he’d worn in the interview that meant he was tired of talking.

“What do you mean, ‘responding with his fists’?” Leon asked. 

“He means nothing,” Arthur said.

“I just meant that now you have the full set of bruises,” Merlin replied. “After all, Ethan managed to miss your face, although I’m not sure how, your head is big enough.”

“Hey, you can’t talk to me like that!”

“Is someone going to fill me in on what the bloody hell you two are talking about?” Leon’s voice was ominously quiet.

“Are you going to tell him, Arthur?” Merlin asked. 

Arthur didn’t respond. 

“It turns out the late Mr Daniels was quite handy with his fists, if Arthur’s bruises are anything to go by,” Merlin said.

“Merlin!” Freya sounded exasperated. “You’re not supposed to divulge personal information!” 

“Arthur?” Leon said. Arthur still didn’t answer. “Arthur, please talk to me. Did you and Ethan get into a fight?”

Arthur looked up at that. “I didn’t kill him, Leon! Please, you of all people have to believe me. I wouldn’t.”

“I believe you, Arthur. It’s ok.” Leon put a cup of tea down in front of Arthur and sat down beside him. He rubbed a comforting hand on Arthur’s back.”

“The bruises aren’t from the night of the murder,” Merlin said. Ok, so Freya was right and he should butt out, but he sensed the chance to get Arthur to talk. “Some are fairly recent, other’s older.”

“Arthur?” Leon said again, voice still gentle. “Where did the bruises come from?”

“He just… he used to get mad at me sometimes, that’s all.”

“And he would hit you?”

“Only if I deserved it.”

“Deserved it how?” Leon asked.

“Well, if I said the wrong thing or annoyed him. Turns out I can be very annoying.” Arthur attempted to laugh, but it fell flat. “Ethan could be wonderful, when he wanted to be. It was my fault.”

“How long?”

Arthur shrugged.

“How long, Arthur?”

“He always had a temper.” Arthur spoke so quietly that Merlin probably wouldn’t have heard him if he hadn’t been sitting so close.

“Always?” Leon said. “Fuck. That bastard has been abusing my best friend all this time and I didn’t even know?” He looked devastated, like this was his fault, like he should have somehow known and stopped it.

“Daniels kept most of the bruises where they couldn’t be seen,” Merlin said.

“I still should have known. I should have done something.”

“I’m a big boy, Leon, I can look after myself.”

“You were fifteen, Arthur!”

“ _Fifteen_?” Merlin couldn’t help the outburst. “You were with him since you were fifteen? How old was Daniels?”

“Thirty-two,” Leon said. “The bastard was thirty-two. Arthur thought he was some sort of demigod just because he showed an interest.” 

“He loved me.”

“He was a fucking paedophile! You don’t do that to people you love, Arthur. If he had loved you he’d have waited till you were older. He’d have left his wife. He wouldn’t have hit you. He wouldn’t have told you you were too fat or made you think you were boring or made you get that fucking nose job. Hell, if he had loved you he’d have let you come to Cambridge with me rather than persuading you to stay here and go to Albion PolyTech.”

“It’s a university now.”

“It’s not Cambridge, is it? He didn’t want you to go away to university and realise you could do better. He didn’t want you somewhere he couldn’t control you. Did Morgana know any of this?”

“Leave it, Leon!” 

“I’ve ‘left it’ for too damn long!”

“I don’t interfere in your relationship.”

“Mithian doesn’t abuse me!”

The tension was broken when Elyan walked in and Arthur and Leon suddenly seemed to realise they were having this argument in front of witnesses. 

Merlin stood up and put the antiseptic and plasters back in the first aid box. “Nothing broken, as far as I can tell. You’ll live.”

“Right, thanks.” Arthur was back to being distant now he remembered who Merlin was.

“We need to head back to the station now, Merlin,” Elyan said. “You too, Freya, Percy is waiting in the car.”

“Ok, I’m going!” Freya put her tea down and left.

“Mr Pendragon, will you be pressing charges?” Elyan asked.

“Charges?” Arthur tried to frown but ended up wincing instead.

“For assault.”

“Ethan didn’t assault me, how many more times!” He slapped his hand down on the table.

“I meant his brother, actually,” Elyan said calmly. 

“Oh. I see.” Arthur looked down at the table for a moment before looking up and meeting Elyan’s eyes. “Sorry. No, no I don’t want to press charges.”

“Arthur…” Leon started forward.

“I said no, Leon.” Arthur stood up. “I’m going to lie down.” He hobbled slowly out of the room, head held high.

Merlin gave Leon a small nod as he got up to leave. 

“I expect you think I’m the world’s worst friend now,” Leon said. “What kind of person doesn’t realise their best friend is in trouble?”

“For what it’s worth, I think he’s pretty good at hiding it,” Merlin replied.

“The signs were there. At school we used to call him Hamlet.” 

“Because he was a tortured mad prince with a ghost for a father and a bastard for an uncle?” Merlin said.

“Enough, DC Emrys,” Elyan said, a warning note in his voice.

“Because his weight always yo-yoed.” Leon looked up and took in their blank expressions. “‘Tubby or not tubby…’. Teenagers, you know. Horrible.” Leon shrugged. “It only started in sixth form, after he met Ethan. We all made fun of him for it. Ethan mocks him for his ‘extra padding’ and his friends joined in. He’s always at the gym, but he never gains muscle. He doesn’t eat properly, claims he just ate if I hassle him. I never pressed the issue.” 

“Don’t beat yourself up about it,” Elyan said. “Abuse is often only easy to spot with hindsight. Arthur clearly has issues you could never fix on your own.”

“Yeah.” Leon didn’t sound too convinced. He was the sort of bloke who thought he was personally responsible for, and could therefore fix, all of the world’s problems.

“Look, we have to get back to the station – reports to write, tape to paint red. You can’t change what’s already happened. Just be there for him now. The best thing you could probably do for him is get him to agree to see a therapist. Everything else is up to Arthur.” Elyan gave Leon an encouraging smile. They showed themselves out.

 

 

“Do you think he did it?” Merlin asked Elyan once they were safely back in the car.

“What makes you say that?” Elyan glanced at Merlin out of the side of his eye as he started the engine.

“I don’t know, the more I find out, the more the evidence seems to stack up against him.”

“But?” 

“I don’t know. I’m probably just being daft.” Merlin looked out the side window as they moved out into the traffic. “Did you know that Arthur was only fifteen when he started seeing Ethan?”

“Fifteen? Jesus. They kept that quiet.” 

“Yeah, I know.” Merlin sighed. This case was so fucked up.

They drove on in silence for a bit before Elyan spoke up again.

“You know, a guy that likes teenage boys tends to always like teenage boys.”

“Meaning?”

“Arthur is 26.”

“So?”

“So. We already know Daniels was unfaithful to his wife, who says he was faithful to Arthur? What if he had other, younger lovers out there?”

“And you think Arthur found out and killed Ethan out of jealousy?”

“Or _someone_ did.”

“So you don’t think Arthur did it?”

“I didn’t say that. I honestly don’t know what went on. I’ve been doing this job long enough to know there is no ‘type’ when it comes to murder. I think Arthur is quite vulnerable underneath the bravado. But then, that just shows he’s good at hiding. And it doesn’t mean the worm didn’t turn. Then again, I’m not convinced the evidence stacks up. And there are the fingerprints we can’t match, Nimueh seems to be ignoring those.”

“We just seem to have gone in, picked on the first sword-wielding madman we came across and not looked any further. Slater is convinced we already have the right man,” Merlin said.

“You have a level head on your shoulders, young Merlin. My only advice to you is to follow your instincts. If you think Arthur might not have done this, then prove it. And if all you prove is that you are wrong, then at least you tried. Unfortunately, Nimueh is just following her instincts too.”

“Ok, thanks, Elyan.”

“No problem. Oh, and Merlin?”

“Yeah?”

“Come to me. If you need help with anything or you are unsure. Even if you have an idea and you think you’re ‘ being daft’. If you can convince me, I’ll back you up with Nimueh. If you can’t convince me, you won’t convince her, but I might be able to point you in the right direction.”

“Ok, thanks Elyan.” 

“Just promise me one thing. When you grow up to be my boss, remember I helped you when you were as green as a cabbage.”

“I found Morgana Le Fay.” Elena spun round in her chair as they came into the office.

“Fantastic, go on.” Elyan said. He grabbed another chair and sat astride it, resting his arms on the back.

“Morgana Le Fay, 28. Paediatrician. Also fosters – mostly troubled teens. Seems to be a friend of the Pendragon family in general. Her father, Gorlois Le Fay, used to run the Irish branch of Pendragon Media, her mother, another Vivian, was a cousin of Igraine Pendragon, Arthur’s mother.”

“Does she have any relevance to the case?”

“She seems to be a friend of Arthur’s. No indication that there is anything more than that.”

“Is there likely to be? Arthur is gay, isn’t he?” Lance said, peering over the top of his computer.

“Could be bi,” Merlin said. “I mean, everyone just assumed he’s gay because of Ethan, but has anyone actually checked?”

“Yeah, but bisexual isn’t really a thing, is it?” Lance asked. “I mean, I thought that was just something gay blokes said when they were having trouble coming out?”

Merlin sighed. He was pretty sure Lance was a decent bloke and not a complete dick, but sometimes straight people could be so annoying. “Yes, Lance, bisexual is a real thing.”

“Lance, you know I date both guys and girls, right?” Elena said.

“Well, yeah, but… I just thought you were confused?”

“No, darling, I’m very much not confused.” She leant across the top of the computer and patted him on the head. “Welcome to the 21st century.”

“Ok, stop teasing the Lance-a-saurus.” Elyan said. “Did you find anything useful on Uther?”

“Not really.” Elena said. “After Igraine died when Arthur was born, Uther just seems to have ploughed himself into his work. He built up Pendragon Media from the fairly successful company he inherited from his father into a global media giant, swallowing up smaller companies along the way – including those owned by both Leon and Morgana’s father’s. Arthur went to boarding school, which is where he met Leon. Interestingly, Ethan Daniels was also an ex-pupil there, as well as being a friend of Uther’s and the star of one of Pendragon Media’s most successful programmes.”

“So, any idea how the two met?” Elyan asked.

“Well, there is a very good chance they would have met at Uther’s house during school holidays, but Daniels was also at various school prize-givings during the time Arthur was at Harrow. I guess their relationship started some time after that though.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t be so sure,” Merlin said. “According to Leon, Arthur had been with Ethan since he was fifteen. Ethan was thirty-two.”

“No way, Ethan Daniels was a kiddie fiddler?” Elena said, looking gobsmacked. “My mum’s going to be devastated!”

“Everyone’s mum is going to be devastated.” Elyan said. “Although fifteen is hardly ‘kiddie’, it’s only one year off legal. Lance, did you find out anything about Arthur’s alibi?” 

“No one there remembers seeing him at all. I’m going over their CCTV footage now to see if I can spot him. Nothing so far and I’m nearly at half seven on the night in question.”

Merlin’s heart sank. Maybe Nimueh was right and Arthur did do it. Lying about his alibi wasn’t going to help his case.

The thing about being the most junior person on a team, is that you get all the boring jobs.

Like going through the material evidence and logging it all into the system. Lots of little plastic bags with various blood-soaked clothes and other things from Arthur’s house.

And ok, so there is the sword, the sword was pretty cool. Or at least, it would have been less than a week ago. But now? Now Merlin had been threatened with that sword and he’d seen a man who’s been run through with that sword, and somehow swords just don’t seem as cool and shiny as they might once have done.

And it’s not. Shiny, that is. The sword still has Ethan’s blood on it, and Merlin has a feeling Arthur would not be happy about that. There is a part of Merlin that wants to clean the sword, but he’s not sure where that desire comes from. It doesn’t help that Elena has already claimed that Merlin just wants to polish Arthur’s sword, and damn but that woman can put a lot of suggestion into very few words.

Arthur’s ruined suit has labels in it from Savile Row. It probably cost more than Merlin’s yearly salary. 

Handmade shoes. Typical. Posh, leather-soled, brogue-type things; the sort of shoe only worn by people with more money than sense who never had to actually walk anywhere. They were ruined too now, of course, blood soaked and dried into the expensive leather.

Frowning to himself, Merlin pulled up the photos of the crime scene. He flicked through them, looking for something that was nagging at the back of his mind. There! 

“Elyan?” He called over his shoulder. “Can you come and look at something for me?”

Elyan came and looked over Merlin’s shoulder. “What’s up?”

“Ok, so you see this footprint?” Merlin pointed to a photograph that showed a bloody foot print pointing towards the front door in Arthur’s house. “That footprint was there when I arrived on the scene. Remember that Freya and I were first on the scene.”

“Ok. So it was probably Arthur?”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Merlin picked up the bag with Arthur’s posh shoes in it and showed the bottoms to Elyan.

Elyan took the bag from Merlin and looked at it blankly for a moment before holding it up to compare it to the footprint.

“No treads.” Merlin said.

“No treads indeed. Nice one, Merlin. You’re sure this print was there before you arrived? It couldn’t belong to any of our team?”

“I’m definite. I saw the footprint as soon as I went in the house, it’s what made Freya call for backup.”

“So Freya can corroborate?”

“Should be able to, yeah. And it’s in my report.”

“Get her up here. Do you want to speak to Slater or shall I?”

“You can, if you want.” Merlin didn’t feel the need to point out that Nimueh terrified him.

 

 

Of course, not everything turns out quite the way one expects.

If Merlin had thought that the footprint might be used as evidence to get Arthur off the hook, he was very much mistaken.

“We’ve got the bastard.” That was Nimueh’s response. 

“Um, how?” he asked.

The look she turned on him suggested he was the stupidest person to ever walk the planet.

“Pendragon claimed to be at the gym. Lance can find no one at the gym that can back that up and Pendragon was not wearing sports clothes, that much we already know. Further more, he had no gym clothes in his car. We did find some in the washing machine, however. But the strange thing is, this man who seems to spend so much time at the gym apparently owned no trainers.”

“Maybe he left them somewhere…”

“Exactly.”

This all sounded as flimsy as hell to Merlin.

“We need to pull him back in for more questioning,” Nimueh said. And this time I think we have enough to charge him.

Merlin looked helplessly at Elyan who shrugged.

“This is starting to look like police harassment, Detective Chief Inspector,” Gwen said.

Once again they were holed up in interview room two.

“Just a few more questions, Miss Thomas. I’m sure your client wants us to catch whoever murdered Mr Daniels.” 

“It’s ok, Gwen,” Arthur said.

“Where were you on the night Ethan was killed, Mr Pendragon?” Nimueh said without further preamble.

“I already answered this.” Whereas before Merlin had thought Arthur sounded belligerent answering these questions, now he just thought he sounded tired. Tired of life, perhaps.

“You did.” Nimueh shrugged. “But this time I’d like you to tell me the truth.”

Arthur looked at her, a red blush staining his cheeks.

“Fine, I went to see a friend.”

“Another lover?”

“No.” This time Arthur did sound bored.

“So why the big secret?”

Arthur was silent for a bit before he spoke again.

“Because my father doesn’t know I’m still in contact with her.”

“Your father?” That was clearly not the response Nimueh had been expecting. “Who doesn’t your father know you are in contact with?”

“My sister.”

“I wasn’t aware you had a sister?” Nimueh was frowning down at her notes.

“No. Neither was I for a long time. My sister is Morgana Le Fay.”

“I’m not entirely sure why you felt the need to keep this information from us.” Nimueh was glowering now. She liked to be a step ahead of the suspect, rather than looking stupid. Merlin suspected he and Elena would get the blame for this one.

“Morgana and my father fell out a few years ago when he refused to publicly acknowledge her. I’m not supposed to see her. She never got on with Ethan either, so he didn’t like me seeing her.”

“So your sister is a popular girl. I still don’t see why you felt the need to lie to the police. Unless, of course, you are still lying. You’ve had time to cook up this alibi now, after all. I dare say if I called Miss Le Fay she would back you all the way.”

“Yes, she would.”

“Arthur…” Gwen tried to intervene but he ignored her.

“Because it’s the truth. Morgana wanted to talk to me. I told Ethan I was going to the gym.”

“So you admit you are a liar?”

“In this instance, yes.”

“Why did you wash your gym clothes if, as you claim, you never wore them?” Nimueh asked.

“I threw my gym clothes in the wash when I got home so he wouldn’t be suspicious that they hadn’t been worn. I didn’t expect to find him lying dead on my sofa.”

“And what about your shoes?”

“My what?”

“Shoes. The things you wear on your feet.”

“What about my shoes?”

“Well, when we went to your house we found lots of pairs of shoes. Shoes for walking, shoes for climbing, shoes for fencing, shoes for wearing to work. Do you know what we didn’t find? Ordinary trainers. You’ll excuse me if I find that odd, for a man who spends his life in the gym and likes to run.”

“My trainers are probably lying in the hall next to my walking boots and various other shoes. Or they’re still in the car. I can’t remember what I did with them, to be honest. Ethan always tells me off for being a slob. Told me off, I mean.” Arthur looked sad when he corrected himself. Merlin couldn’t understand why anyone would mourn a man who treated them like Ethan Daniels had treated Arthur.

“Right. As I said, we found no trainers. Shall I tell you what I think? I think you were wearing your gym clothes when you killed Ethan, because you actually had planned on going to the gym. You put them in the washing machine to get rid of the blood, although they are rather conveniently dark. But not the trainers, those you had to throw away, didn’t you? You got changed back into your work clothes, went out, disposed of the shoes and then made a big show of finding the body. But you couldn’t actually go to the gym, could you? You had no gym clothes. Maybe you did go to Morgana’s house. Perhaps she was an accessory after the fact. Is that it? Was she in on it, Arthur?”

“No! There was no ‘it’, I didn’t kill Ethan. I got home from work, picked up my gym stuff, but then I went round to Morgana’s instead.”

“Really? I wonder what she would have to say on the matter?”

The door opened and Lance came in carrying something in a plastic evidence bag.

“Detective Sergeant Dulac has entered the room,” Nimueh said for the benefit of the recording. Her eyes lit up as she saw what Lance had brought her. “Well well, it seems uniform have truly excelled themselves today. Do they match?” Lance nodded as he handed the bag over.

“Mr Pendragon,” Nimueh said, turning to Arthur. “Do you recognise these, by any chance?”

She showed him the contents of the bag. A lurid pair of Nike trainers, bright blue with a lime green soles and laces. There were red splotches on them that were most likely blood.

Arthur’s face had turned a ghastly colour. “Where did you find those?”

“For the benefit of the tape, I am showing Mr Pendragon a pair of trainers. Mr Pendragon, do you recognise these shoes? For the tape please.”

“Yes.”

“It might interest you to know, that the tread on these trainers matches a footprint we found at your house, in your boyfriend’s blood. I strongly suspect that when we test them, the blood on the shoes will also be a match. Are these your shoes, Arthur?”

Arthur was silent for a long time, just staring at the shoes.

“I think I would like to talk to my client,” Gwen said into the silence.

“It’s just a simple question, yes or no,” Nimueh said.

Arthur looked up and met Nimueh’s eyes. “Yes.”


	4. Chapter 4

How could he get everything so wrong?

Merlin had been starting to believe Arthur was innocent. Why did he always get taken in by a pretty face and a nice smile?

Why? WHY?

The look of poorly-concealed glee on Nimueh’s face as she charged Arthur had made Merlin feel physically sick.

And to make matters worse, Arthur’s name and his relationship with Ethan had been leaked to the press and the front pages were utterly vile.

He knocked on Drake’s door in response to a summons. No doubt now the case was closed he would be back in uniform. So much for his big promotion.

“Ah, good morning, young Emrys,” Drake said. 

Merlin stood awkwardly in front of Drake’s desk, once again unsure if he should just start speaking or wait till the dragon spoke first.

“What is your opinion of the outcome of the Daniels case?”

“I… er…”

“Yes?”

“Disappointed, to be honest, Sir.”

“And why would that be?”

“I didn’t think he did it, Sir.”

“Yet now you do?”

“I… well… he confessed.”

“No. No, he did not. I have the transcript here. Mr Pendragon claimed the shoes were his, although I would not have thought they were quite his style.”

Merlin suddenly realised that Drake had the evidence bag containing the trainers on his desk. He had a point. Most of Arthur’s shoes were expensive and tasteful. These may have been expensive, Merlin was hardly an expert, but they were brightly coloured, fashion shoes as opposed to top of the range sports wear. Horrible, ugly things, bright blue with lime green trim. The blood on them was almost an improvement. No, Merlin couldn’t picture Arthur being seen dead in those. 

“He certainly recognised them though, I’d say. Still, if you are quite sure of his guilt, I suppose the case is closed.”

“Do you want me back in uniform then, Sir?”

“DI Thomas speaks highly of you.”

“Bet DCI Slater doesn’t.”

“You can not win them all.”

“No, Sir.”

“Hmm, I think I should like you to stay in CID for the time being. See the case through to the end. I can not count it as closed until we actually have a conviction, after all, can I now?”

“Yes, Sir. I mean, No, Sir.”

“Very well, you may go back to work. Arthur’s bail hearing is at half past eleven, I believe. I think You and DS Dulac should attend, and get some uniform down there. The press are going to eat him for breakfast.”

“Yes, Sir.”

 

 

Were it not for the fact that Merlin had already met Arthur, he would have said that Gwaine Mulhern QC was the best looking bloke he’d ever seen close up.

Of course, the advantage was that Gwaine was not off limits. He was not the chief suspect in a murder trial, he was not grieving over a long term partner (as far as Merlin knew). Also, Gwaine actually seemed to like Merlin and flirted with him. 

Of course, on the downside, Gwaine was every bit as much out of Merlin’s league as Arthur. And he flirted with everyone. He was gorgeous and successful and a barrister. A barrister who had just managed to get Arthur bail with what seemed like very little effort. 

The Crown prosecutors hadn’t wanted Arthur released, of course. They had argued that he was a flight risk, that he was a danger to the public, that he was a danger to himself; the bail had been set high as a consequence. And Arthur being Arthur, with all his super-rich friends, hadn’t had to wait long at all for someone to stump up all that cash. Merlin would have stay in prison forever before his mum even came up with half of that, and his mum loved him!

“So, I hear you arrested me boy here?” Gwaine asked.

“Not me personally, no.”

“Ah but still, I’m not sure I should be consorting with the enemy.”

Merlin smiled at him, unsure of what to say.

“Still, maybe I should give you me number, for after the trial like, once I get get Arthur off.”

“You’re confident, aren’t you?”

“Of course. My client is innocent and he has a devilishly handsome barrister and a drop dead gorgeous solicitor to keep him out of jail, what could go wrong?”

“Well then, you’ve got me convinced. Shame I won’t be on the jury!” Merlin joked. Glancing up he saw Arthur and Leon walking towards them accompanied by Gwen and the most stunning woman Merlin had ever seen. “Look, Gwaine, go easy on Arthur, yeah? He’s more vulnerable than he pretends.”

“Can I not get rid of you lot?” Arthur said, not sounding quite as sour as he probably intended. 

“’Fraid not,” Merlin said with a tight smile. “Sorry, Arthur, but the press have got hold of your name and they’re baying for blood. Lance is outside with a couple of uniformed officers. If we take you out the back way we should be ok.”

Arthur’s face had turned whiter and whiter as Merlin spoke. 

The tall woman beside him spoke up. “We’re not about to sneak out the back door like Arthur’s a criminal. He’s innocent. He’s going to walk out of that door with his head held high and tell them he didn’t do it.”

Arthur turned to her. “I can’t do this, Morg…”

“Arthur Pendragon, you listen to me. You are one of the strongest, bravest people I know. If anyone can do this, you can.” She turned and glared at Merlin. “We don’t need help from the likes of you.”

“Morgana,” Arthur said, sounding weary. “Leave him alone, Merlin’s ok.”

“I have to say, as your lawyer, that is a pretty good strategy,” Gwaine said.

“And as your other lawyer,” Gwen said. “I’m going to have to insist that if you do walk out there with your head held high, you will tell them ‘no comment’ and not engage them any further.”

Arthur turned to Merlin, practically begging him with his eyes to let him escape through the back door.

“It’s up to you, Arthur. I can tell Lance to bring the car round front if you like.”

“I have my car,” Leon said.

“Yes, and then they will follow you and find out where Arthur is staying. I mean, they will find that out anyway, sooner or later, but let’s try and make it later, yeah?” Merlin said.

“Why are you helping me?” Arthur asked. “You are under no obligation to help me, why not just leave me to the dogs?”

Merlin grinned. “I’m just keeping the peace.” 

Arthur nodded, looking a little sad. “Let’s get this over with.” He stood up straight and squared his shoulders, looking towards the front entrance. Merlin called Lance and asked him to bring the car around the front of the courthouse. 

The press were brutal. The yelling and the flashing of cameras started almost as soon as the doors opened. Merlin was quite relieved to see Percy and Valiant waiting to escort Arthur out. Arthur and Morgana somehow managed to make themselves look like royalty leaving a function with their entourage. 

As soon as they were in the car, Lance drove in the opposite direction to Leon’s house, leaving Leon, Morgana, Gwen and Gwaine to make their own way in Leon’s car.

It wasn’t as easy to keep investigating the Daniels case now that Nimueh considered it closed.

He kept thinking back to what Drake had said about the trainers not looking like something Arthur would wear, but Arthur had claimed they were his. He needed to talk to Arthur, but that would be breaking protocol. And anyway, he did actually have other work to do and he couldn’t afford to slack if he wanted to stay in CID.

About a week after the bail hearing, Merlin gave up and decided to drop by and see Arthur after work. He could just pretend it was some sort of official follow up or something.

Walking up to Leon’s front door, he heard raised voices. He lowered his hand from where he had been about to knock.

“How long did you know, Morgana? Is that why you sent him away? You knew all that fucking time and you never told me? I mean bloody hell, surely I deserved to know!” Arthur sounded angry.

“Oh like you would have listened, Arthur! You thought the sun shone out of Ethan’s backside. Perhaps if you had ever confided in me about the way the bastard used to treat you, I would have told you. Then again, perhaps if you had told me, I’d have persuaded you to leave him years ago and none of this would have ever happened.”

“What, so now it’s all my fault, is it?”

“I never said that!”

“Oh, I think you did.”

“Look, Arthur, Ethan was a creep. Did you really think you were the only one he ever hurt? You were twenty-four when it happened, how was he going to be happy with you when he liked teenage boys?”

“That is a low blow, Morgana.”

“No, it’s just the truth. When are you going to see this guy for who he really was?”

“I know who he was. Do you not think that I of all people know? And yes, it was my fault. I never said anything, I let him get away with it. I introduced him to a vulnerable boy, and yes, I was too fucking stupid to realise that Ethan would do… _that_ to someone else. So I guess it’s only fair that I take the blame, right?”

“I don’t want you to go to prison, Arthur. Especially not for something you didn’t do. But he’s sixteen, he’ll never survive in there.”

“And you think I will?”

“Gwaine is good – the best. He’ll get you off.” 

“And if he doesn’t?”

“I’m sorry, Arthur. I would never have asked this of you if there were any other way. Please.”

There was silence inside the house.

“Fine. I won’t say anything.” The resignation was thick in Arthur’s voice.

“You’re a good man, Arthur.”

“You’d better go, he’ll be wondering where you are.”

“I love you, baby brother.”

Realising he was about to get caught eavesdropping, Merlin quickly made his way down the driveway, taking care not to make too much noise on the gravel. He sat in his car until he saw Morgana drive away and then he went back up to the house.

“What do you want?” Arthur asked when he opened the door.

“I just wondered how you were doing?” Merlin said, giving Arthur his best smile.

“I suppose you’d better come in.” Arthur held the door open for him. “I’m making tea, do you want one?”

Arthur left Merlin sitting on the sofa while he made tea. Merlin was surprised by how untidy Leon’s house seemed to be. He’d been expecting stylish furniture and everything spick and span, instead everything was a little old and worn with piles of books on every available surface.

Arthur came back and handed Merlin a mug of fragrant black tea. 

“Did the milkman go on strike?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

“It’s earl grey.”

“So?”

“So you don’t put milk in earl grey tea, you philistine.”

Merlin sniffed at the tea and wrinkled his nose. “It smells funny.”

Arthur laughed, which was a wonderful sight to see. “Just be glad that I didn’t give you Leon’s stinky old lapsang, that would really give you something to complain about.”

“I saw your sister leaving,” Merlin said, trying to sound nonchalant. “She didn’t look very happy.”

Arthur gave him a look. “She wasn’t, we had words. It’s all sorted now.”

“You two seem close.”

“We grew up together. We were close long before I found out she was my sister.”

‘Yeah,’ Merlin thought to himself. ‘So close she’s asking you to go to prison for something you didn’t do.’

“I wanted to ask you about the trainers,” Merlin said. He risked a sip of his tea and decided it wasn’t as horrible as he’d feared. Could have done with a drop of milk though. And maybe a biscuit.

“What about them?”

“You claimed they were yours.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because they are, I bought them – I’m sure you could find the transaction in my bank statements.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Believe what you like,” Arthur said, not looking at Merlin. “The transaction still took place.”

“Bright blue and lime green?”

“What is wrong with that?”

“They’re hideous.”

Arthur tried to suppress a smirk. “Yeah, that’s what I told him.”

“Told who?”

Arthur looked a little wrong footed for a moment. “Ethan,” he said. “Ethan picked them.”

“Right. Of course he did. Perhaps he was trying to pretend you were still fifteen?” Yeah, ok, that was mean.

Arthur flushed and stared into his tea.

“I’m sorry,” Merlin said. “That was uncalled for.”

“You wouldn’t be the first person to say I was probably getting to be too old for Ethan’s tastes.”

“Nevertheless…”

“How old were you?” Arthur said suddenly.

“When?”

“When you realised you were gay. When you had your first boyfriend. When you lost your virginity.”

“Oh. I see. I think I always knew I was gay. My mum’s pretty cool, she never made an issue out of stuff like that. I had my first proper boyfriend at sixteen. …Snogged a few before that though.”

“And you’ve had a lot of boyfriends?”

“Some. Not a huge number. I prefer long-term relationships if I can – a bit of an old romantic really. How about you?” Merlin cursed himself as soon as the words left his mouth.

“Just Ethan,” Arthur said with a small sad smile. “He was my first, but you probably already figured that out. My only.”

“But you at least kissed other people, right?”

Arthur shook his head. “I was an overweight, shy teenager.”

“And you thought the sun shone out of Ethan’s bum?”

Arthur shrugged. “Ethan sorted out a diet for me. Got me going to the gym. Not everything he did was bad. He could be great when he wanted to be.”

Merlin wasn’t sure if controlling Arthur’s weight was a sign of Ethan being great or a sign of Ethan being a control freak.

“I don’t get the impression you still believe that?” he said.

“It doesn’t matter.” Arthur’s face was more drawn than ever. “Look, I’m sorry but I have stuff to do…”

“Guess I’d better be going then.” Merlin put his half-drunk cup of fancy tea down and stood up.

Arthur showed him to the door. “Take care of yourself, Arthur,” Merlin said on his way out.

Merlin was never sure why he did it. He brushed past Arthur in the hallway to get to the front door and it just seemed like the easiest, most obvious thing to do in the world. He leant in and kissed Arthur.

“Um, I’m so sorry, I have no idea why I did that!”

Arthur was looking at him, wide eyed.

“Ok, I’m going now. I really am sorry.” Merlin opened the door to leave.

“It’s ok,” Arthur said behind him. “It was nice, actually.”

“Seriously? You’re not mad? Are you going to report me?”

“No, it was nice. Ethan was never really one for showing affection. He only kissed me when we were in bed.”

“That’s… kinda sad, to be honest. If we weren’t in this situation and you weren’t out of my league, I’d kiss you all the time.”

“Even though you think I’m a murderer?”

“I’m not so sure I do, Arthur. I just wish you’d tell me who you’re protecting.”

Arthur gave him a sad smile. “Thank you, Merlin,” was all he said. Then, he leant in and placed a small kiss on Merlin’s cheek.

Arthur was a surprisingly responsive lover. The sounds he made as Merlin slowly pushed into him from behind were nearly enough to make Merlin come then and there before they'd even really started.

He was looking forward to trying this from the other end. Had Ethan ever let Arthur fuck him, or was Arthur still a virgin in that respect? 

He kissed Arthur's shoulder as he made love to him, thrusting into him in long languid stokes, rubbing against Arthur's prostate. Finally, when he could take the pace no more, he picked up speed, bringing his hand around to work Arthur's own neglected erection. Far too soon, Arthur was coming, clenching around Merlin's cock in a way that should have been illegal. Merlin came with a shout, calling out Arthur's name. 'I love you,' he breathed into Arthur's hair as he tried to regain his thoughts. 

This had to stop. Coming into his pyjamas like a kid who'd only just discovered what his cock was for at the age of twenty-five was embarrassing. And poor Arthur really didn't deserve to be the subject of Merlin's depraved wet dreams, surely the guy had been through enough? Merlin was never going to be able to look at him again without blushing.

Sighing, he rolled out of bed and peeled off his sticky pyjamas. This was the third time this week; ever since he’d been stupid enough to kiss Arthur, he didn’t seem to be able to get him out of his head. He turned the shower to cold and stepped under, letting the water cascade over him in an attempt to wash away the fact he was a bad bad person.


	5. Chapter 5

As it turned out, getting records about kids in foster care was not an easy task. The kids Morgana Le Fay took in tended to be troubled teens, kids whose families had fallen apart or ended up in prison, kids who were a stone’s throw away from ending up in prison themselves. Most didn’t stay with her for long, just until their situations got sorted. A few lasted a while longer, but for all of them, their records were sealed. 

It took Merlin a full week to unearth the record of one Mordred Griffiths. The boy had been fostered by Morgana three years ago when his father went to prison, his mother having walked out on him many years before that. Unlike most of Morgana’s take-ins, he stayed for nearly a whole year until he left quite suddenly and went to another foster carer. That was two years ago and the boy was now sixteen, which fitted perfectly with the overheard argument between Arthur and Morgana.

On top of that, the day before Ethan Daniels was murdered, Mordred had run away from the children’s home he was currently placed in.

It was no good, the only way Merlin was going to get to the bottom of this was to go and speak to Morgana Le Fay herself. Terrifying as she may be.

Morgana’s house turned out to be surprisingly normal. Merlin had been half expecting some sort of gothic castle with crooked turrets and wyverns flying about. Instead she lived in a nice detached house on the slightly less pretentious side of the super-posh Avalon district.

When Merlin rang the doorbell, it did not play the funeral march and the door was not answered by a dusty old butler called Lurch. All in all, Morgana Le Fay’s abode was a little on the disappointing side.

The lady herself, however, was not. Morgana was every bit as beautiful and terrifying as Merlin remembered.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, sounding cross.

“I just have a few questions I’d like to ask you.”

Morgana looked over her shoulder like she was checking the cost was clear. “I supposed you’d better come in.”

Inside, Morgana’s house was a little scary. Not that it had cobwebs or cauldrons or anything sinister like that, but more because it was spotlessly clean and full of modern art that Merlin completely did not get and would not have been comfortable having in his flat. Not that his flat was big enough to even get some of it though the door.

Merlin took a deep breath and decided to get straight to the point. “I was wondering if you could tell me who you and Arthur were arguing about the other night.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“The other night. About a week ago. I went round to ask Arthur why he lied about owning a pair of trainers that clearly belonged to a teenage boy. When I got there he was arguing with you. Something about a sixteen-year-old boy.”

“Clearly your mother never told you not to listen to conversations that have nothing to do with you.”

“Yeah. Copper – being nosy comes with the territory.”

“Well, Detective Constable, I’m afraid you’ve had a wasted journey. I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Really? Because I got the impression you both knew the identity of the person who killed Ethan Daniels, and you were blackmailing Arthur into keeping quiet.”

“How dare you, I was not blackmailing him!”

“Oh really? What would you call it then? Coersion? _Emotional_ blackmail? See, the thing is, and I think you already know this, is that Arthur is fragile. Between Ethan Daniels and Uther Pendragon, Arthur’s self-confidence is rock bottom, and he could be talked into pretty much anything.” A shadow under the door gave Merlin the distinct impression someone was listening.

“I don’t know what you are suggesting, but Arthur is my brother, I love him.”

“I get that, I really do. That is what I’m finding so damned confusing. You pay enough bail to get Greece out of debt, you pay for a top solicitor and a silk barrister, and then you try to persuade him to plead guilty to a murder he didn’t commit.”

“I wasn’t trying to persuade him to plead guilty!”

“What then? Just not tell the police who really did it?”

Morgana didn’t answer.

“There are fingerprints at the scene we just can’t match, did you know that?”

Morgana shrugged.

“You are wrong, you know.”

“What about.”

“Arthur won’t last six months in prison. A posh, entitled, rich, gay bloke with no self-esteem? They will go after him like he’s made of heroin. And yeah, maybe he can take a few beatings, he’s used to it after all, but he will break. He will break into a thousand pieces like a priceless vase and he doesn’t deserve that, Morgana. Arthur could be one of the good ones, if he was just given half a chance.”

“Fancy him, do you? Is that it, get Arthur off so he’ll be grateful and then you can try your luck?”

“Of course I fancy him, I’m only human. But I’m not stupid, I know out of my league when I see it.”

“What then? Is it some sort of a cash reward you’re after?”

“No. Don’t be so bloody stupid. I like Arthur, I don’t want him to go to jail for something he didn’t do. Even if I’m wrong and he did survive, he’d be nearly sixty by the time they let him out. He’s never had a chance at a life, and now he never will.”

Morgana looked ready to cry. “You don’t understand.”

“Try me.”

Again, silence.

“Does it have anything to do with Mordred Griffiths?” he asked.

Morgana looked up sharply at that. Merlin wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard a floorboard creak. “This has nothing to do with Mordred!”

“Really? He’s what, sixteen? That sounds like just about the age Ethan liked them. And of course, he only fourteen when you sent him away. Why did you send him away?”

“Stop this!” Morgana sounded angry, but the look in her eyes said she was scared.

“I saw a police report saying Mordred ran away from a children’s home. Is that what you needed to talk to Arthur so urgently about on the night of the murder?”

“I’d like you to leave please.” Morgana said, standing up.

“Why, have I struck a nerve? Is he here? Are you here, Mordred?” Merlin called out. “Are you really going to let an innocent man pay for what you did?”

“Get out of my house!” Morgana physically shoved him towards the door. Whoever had been in the hall was gone by the time Merlin was pushed out of the front door. “I’m going to speak to your boss about this.”

“And say what? That I’m intimidating a teenage boy? How can I be when he’s not here? He doesn’t exist!”

Morgana shut the door in his face.

Of course, Nimueh did not listen. As far as she was concerned, she had the culprit. Nothing Merlin said about shoes or fingerprints or motives made any difference.

And Chief Constable Drake was apparently on holiday somewhere in the mediterranean.

The date of the trial was growing ever closer, and no one would listen to him. Well, Elyan, Lance and Elena would, but Nimueh outranked them all.

And Merlin was sure he was being followed.

Nothing definite, just a shadow out the corner of his eye.

He worked late, he had little choice. Any work he wanted to do on Arthur’s case had to be done in his own time. It was dark when he left the station.

The shadow followed him home.

The trouble with the car park behind Merlin’s block of flats, was that the streetlight seemed to be permanently out. Merlin liked to kid himself that has this not been the case, he’d have seen Mordred.

Of course, he had no excuse for why he didn’t notice Mordred following him into the building, catching the door behind Merlin just before it swung shut. He just assumed it was another resident coming home and never bothered to look round.

Merlin stopped to pick up his mail from his pigeonhole, the other person was gone when he turned back round. He carried on up the stairs to his flat.

And yeah, as a police officer, a detective no less, he really should have been more aware. He should have noticed the dark-clothed figure lurking in the corridor. But he just _didn’t_.

“What the…” Merlin yelped as he was shoved into his flat after he unlocked the door. He turned around to see a teenage boy in a black hoodie push the door shut and lean up against it. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Why is that your business?” the boy asked. “Why is any of this your business? Why did you have to go sticking your nose in?”

“Mordred?” Merlin guessed. 

“Yeah, Mordred. Like you didn’t know. Like you haven’t been trying to get me banged up!” There was a dangerous, wild look in the boy’s pale blue eyes. Merlin had to remind himself to go carefully, in all likelihood, this boy had shoved a sword into Ethan Daniels heart.

“I’m not trying to get you ‘banged up’, Mordred. I’m just trying to get to the truth.”

“Why?” Mordred shouted. “It was all under control! Everything was sorted.”

“Seriously? Everything was sorted? You’re happy for someone else to go to prison for something you did?”

Mordred looked like he was trying to decide between hitting Merlin or bursting into tears. “Arthur said it was ok. He said not to worry about it.”

“Arthur is trying to protect you.”

“He’s my friend.” Mordred angrily brushed away tears from where they threatened to spill down his cheeks. “He was nice to me, when my Dad got sent away. He talked to me like a person, not like I was just a stupid kid or a problem. He taught me to fence – we’re both lefties. He said he’d sorted it, he said it would be ok.”

“Arthur is my friend too. I’m trying to help him, just like he’s trying to help you. Why don’t you tell me what happened, Mordred?” Merlin risked putting his hand out and touching the boy on the arm. 

Mordred flinched away, looking around like he’d only just realised he’d shut himself in the flat with Merlin. “Get off me!” he shouted. “Why do you all think you have the right to touch me? What is it with Arthur’s so-called friends that they think they have the right to… to…” Mordred tried to back away, his back coming flush against the door.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Mordred,” Merlin said, attempting to project an air of calm. “I’m not going to do anything to you. No offence, but teenage boys really don’t float my boat. Just come and sit down, I promise to keep my distance.”

Still eyeing Merlin warily, Mordred did as he was told and moved over to the sofa.

“Now,” Merlin said, going to sit on one of the rickety chairs by the dining table. “Please tell me what happened the night Ethan Daniels died. Because I’m pretty sure you know, don’t you, Mordred?”

“I didn’t know he’d be there,” Mordred said, picking at the frayed sleeve of his hoodie. “I went to see Arthur. I needed to talk to him… I failed my exams.”

“Did you see Arthur?”

“He wasn’t in. _He_ was there instead.”

“Ethan?”

Mordred nodded. “He… he tried to touch me. Like he did before. He…” Mordred was crying openly now. 

“It’s ok, Mordred,” Merlin said quietly. “I get the idea.”

“I didn’t mean to. The sword was just lying there on the table. I think Arthur had been cleaning it; it was his pride and joy. I picked it up to make Ethan back off, that’s all, I swear!”

“But he didn’t?”

“He just kept coming, he didn’t think I’d use it. He tripped. I swear he tripped. The scabbard was lying on the floor. He sort of fell towards me. I pushed him back, but the sword was just sticking out of him. He landed on the sofa. I tried to help, I pulled the sword out. But there was nothing I could do. I panicked and I ran.”

“And the shoes?”

“I didn’t even realise there was so much blood till I slipped in the hall. Arthur’s trainers were lying there, so I put them on. I chucked mine in the bins behind the supermarket on the high street. Arthur bought them for me for my sixteenth. We weren’t supposed to still be in touch but he sent them anyway, knew the ones I wanted. I thought it was a guilt thing at first, because of what Ethan did, but Arthur didn’t even know.”

“Look, Mordred, I know this is hard for you, but would you be willing to come down to the station and make an official statement?”

“I can’t! They’ll send me to prison! And everyone will know what he did.”

“If you don’t, they’ll send Arthur to prison. It sounds like self-defence to me, Mordred. And an accident. At the very worst that is manslaughter, not murder. And as a minor, even if you were convicted you would be in young offenders, not prison, and would get a much lighter sentence. Arthur will be going down for murder. He’ll go to prison for a very long time.”

“I heard you tell Morgana that he wouldn’t last six months.”

“Did you think they’d let him out after six months if he couldn’t hack it? That’s not how it works, Mordred. The only way he’d leave after six months is in a box.”

“No, that’s not… Arthur wouldn’t!”

“You are not the only one Ethan Daniels abused, but there was no one there to save Arthur from him. Except possibly you. I’m really not sure how much more he could take before he cracked.”

“Do you really think I’ll be ok if I tell them?”

“I’m neither a psychic or a lawyer, I can’t make promises. I know they’ll go easier on you if you tell the truth.”

Mordred nodded. He was quiet for what seemed like ages as he mulled it over. “Can we go now?”

“Now?” Merlin said, nonplussed.

“You said I had to give a statement. If I wait, Morgana will talk me out of it.”

“Ok… I’m not promising anything, you do get that? I don’t know what will happen if you confess.”

Mordred nodded.

Merlin grabbed his keys from where he’d dropped them. 

“You’re doing the right thing. This is very brave.”

Mordred gave him a watery smile. “You’re wrong, you know,” he said.

“What about?”

“Arthur isn’t out of your league. I think you’d be good for him.”

**Epilogue**

It was nearly two years before Merlin saw Arthur again. That didn’t mean that every time Merlin saw blond hair or an expensive suit he didn’t look up in hope.

That was probably why he really wasn’t expecting it when a fairly scruffy-looking student wearing old jeans and a hoodie with a beanie pulled down over his ears dropped down in the seat next to him in Costas and said, “Hello, Merlin,” in that posh voice that had been haunting his dreams.

Arthur looked… good. Beyond good. He looked happy and healthy. He’d put on a little weight, gained some muscle. As he pulled his hat off, making his hair stand up all over the place, Merlin couldn’t help but notice that even Arthur’s hair had a certain gleam to it that it had never had before. Merlin resisted the urge to brush it down flat. It was even more obvious now than ever that this man was at least a hundred million miles out of his league.

“Hi, Arthur.” He smiled. “You’re looking well.”

“Thanks, wish I could say the same about you. I think that police station is clearly working you too hard.”

Merlin smiled again, but he knew it didn’t reach his eyes this time. “Yeah, I’ve been studying for my sergeant’s exam and people keep breaking the law so we’ve been kinda busy. Plus, you know, the trials of christmas shopping. How about you, what have you been up to?” 

“I went back to Uni!”

“Uni? I thought you were some hot-shot accountant?”

“Yeah. That was never really my dream though, it was my dad’s.”

“So what are you studying now? History?”

“Thought about it, but no. I’m doing psychology, actually. I’m going to be a therapist and help people. Teenagers.”

“That’s great, Arthur! I think you’ll be brilliant at that.”

“I hope so. We’ll see. If it doesn’t work out, I always have the accountancy to fall back on!”

“True. How’s Mordred doing?”

“He’s doing well. He’s getting counselling. He’s doing A-Levels, hoping to go to uni next year.”

“That’s good.” Merlin smiled. Mordred wasn’t a bad kid really, he’d already paid enough for what he did.

“And you?”

“Yeah. Still in therapy, much to my father’s disgust. Proper English men don’t talk about their feelings, you know.” Arthur tried to pass a shrug off a casual, but didn’t quite succeed.

“That’s probably why we’re all fucked up.”

“Speak for yourself.”

Merlin just grinned at him.

“So, listen. My therapist thinks I should ask out this bloke I fancy.”

“Your therapist thinks?” Merlin pasted a smile on and tried to pretend that he was happy at the thought of Arthur seeing someone who wasn’t him. 

“Yeah. What do you think? Is it a good idea?”

“I think it’s up to you. Any man would be lucky to have you,” Merlin said sincerely. 

“How would you like to come out to dinner with me?” Arthur asked in a rush, looking nervous.

“Huh?”

“You know, dinner. Food, wine, conversation.”

“Um, why?”

Arthur’s face shuttered and Merlin could have kicked himself.

“I just thought it would be nice.” He got up from the table. “I really like you, Merlin. I get we couldn’t start anything before, I wasn’t ready and you’d have got sacked. But Mordred said you liked me. And things are different now. I’ve moved on. I guess you have too, I’m sorry for wasting your time.” Arthur turned and started to walk out of the coffee shop.

“Arthur, wait!” Merlin jumped up and caught Arthur’s arm. “I’m sorry. I would love to come to dinner with you. I just don’t get why me.”

“Why you? Why not you? I’ve thought about no one but you for the last two years. I’ve tried dating other people and they didn’t live up to you.”

“I think you might be remembering me wrong here, Arthur. I’m a bumbling idiot with an overdraft and bags under his eyes. You’re this amazing, gorgeous bloke who’s richer than creosote. You could go for dinner with anyone you want.”

Arthur kissed him. Right there in the middle of the coffee shop. And it wasn’t perfect, and their noses crashed together because Merlin wasn’t expecting it, but damn if it wasn’t the best kiss of Merlin’s life.

“Well that’s good, because I want to go to dinner with a bumbling idiot with an overdraft who quotes Terry Pratchett at inappropriate times,” Arthur said when they came up for air. “Or at least, I hope that’s what you were doing and you don’t really think it’s ‘rich as creosote’.”

“Fine,” Merlin said, unable to stop the grin spreading across his face. “Where are you taking me?” He grabbed his stuff from the table.

“I’m taking you? I’m the poor student here!” They started to walk to the exit .

“You did the asking.” Merlin shrugged. “I guess we could always do pizza. I’ll go halves.”

“Sounds good to me.” Arthur grinned back at him. 

“Shall we?” He proffered his arm to Merlin.

“Lead on, Macduff.”

“That is totally the wrong play you know.”

“I know.”

“Idiot.”

“Prat.”


End file.
